True Elision
by Ezan
Summary: YAOI RaitoRyuzaki.Raito dies and becomes nothing. But the Shinigami need his soul,so they give him a second chance.They recreate his spirit and send him to a hellish trial where he must face his living nightmares.Intense romance comes late in fic
1. Prologue

**Hi guys! How is everyone? I decided –against my better ****judgment- to have a go at that Death Note fanfic I've been thinking of writing. Truth be told, I don't think anyone is going to like this, since it's my first try at something so serious. **

**For the yaoi fans out there,**** this story will definitely contain slash, but it will take a long time to develop, since my main concern is to prevent the characters from being OOC. I will respect the plot of the manga and the true actions of all characters. I want to have decent, flowing character development and plot before I rush to the yaoi. I believe that these useful elements will help create a better, more believable, more satisfying romance in the long run - always combined with mystery and thrill.**

**It's the first time I've ever taken on such a daunting task. The Death Note characters are much too complex for me, and I'm jittery - no one will really like the fanfic. I'll just drop the prologue and if I see people reviewing positively, then I'll keep writing. Btw, I don't mind flames. Be my guest with any comment.**

**I hope to deliver a better fanfiction than ever before. I have become obsessed with Death Note (which is usually a good sign about the updating progress of my fics) and feel that I can't rest until I write a good long story about it.**

**Title: True**** Elision**

**Pairing: Raito (Light Yagami)) x Ryuuzaki (L)**

**Warnings: This story contains YAOI (a.k.a. slash, male homosexual romance)**

**Summary: After he died, Raito was sent neither to heaven nor hell. He was turned to nothing, and stopped existing. But a conglomeration of factors works to Raito's advantage one last time after death: the population of the Shinigami, who permanently draw the life of the souls they have vaporized with their Death Notes, is falling at alarming rates. The Shinigami need new recruits –new souls to convert to Gods of Death, or else their entire race shall be wiped out. Naturally, Raito is a great candidate.**

**Raito's spirit is reformed and thrust into hell: he is allowed**** a chance. If he withstands the levels of hell, he is allowed to pass to the Afterlife and atone for his sins. If not, he becomes a Shinigami and loses his soul once again. Raito then realizes that the hell he must withstand is a giant labyrinth, where each room is the same. Each room features a never-ending, torturous chess game between him and his great nemesis, L. But the Ryuuzaki in Raito's hell is not the real man. He is a demon – a true demon. Beat the demonic Ryuuzaki and have a second chance, or lose the tournament and be damned forever. The duel of his fate begins!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

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"_Kira-sama…"_

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A wise person once said: "it's better to be hated than to be ignored". Some people can attest to this during their first pre-pubescent crush, when they insist on trying to do anything in their power to attract their idol's attention – even if it means becoming mean and cruel. Even if their bully-like efforts, perfect subterfuges of misdirected hormonal desperation, render them ironically despised by the very objects of their affection, they still prefer it compared to the frightening truth of non-existence.

But most people, very mediocre and simple in their demands, fail to understand this concept. Very few have the experience of being involved in some fascinating, earth-shattering, awesome emotional discovery during their lifetimes. Most live their lives as they have been taught to: go to school, go to college, copulate, graduate, engage in careerism, marry, procreate, retire and die. And in their drab, everyday routines, they fail to consider basic human behavioral patterns. When asked if they'd rather be ignored or hated by another being, the majority of them reply that they'd rather be ignored, since they're probably thinking either of their employer or their spouse.

Nevertheless, it is an intrinsic –if technically illogical- elemental belief of human nature: non-existence is a frightening idea. Better to be _something_- even something despicable – than to be _nothing at all_.

But when a person becomes intelligent, intelligent enough to fancy himself a God, such basic sentiments of the human animal become negligible. The line between important and crucial becomes translucent, and the borders that separate the planes of true life and the ideal are merged. That kind of man, in his perceived superiority, his overwhelming intelligence which has no time for dallying with 'plebeian, everyday matters', may actually lose sight of some very common, sensible things, that any relatively functional member of society with much lower IQ, would immediately understand.

In his effort to prove himself to himself, he becomes absorbed in surrealistic addictions – he occupies himself more and more with matters, which, on the one hand may require superior intelligence, but on the other have no actual significance in real life interactions. It happens all the time in casinos, when the occasional math wizard attempts to create the ultimate mathematical formula for winning in poker. But no one really congratulates him –they just consider him another regular waste of talent.

There may be a goal offered to defend these obsessive actions: the casino-addict, for instance, in his effort to present himself as a mathematical genius rather than the nondescript gambler he is, claims massive amounts of money or fame as his reason for playing. Another man may announce an idealistic goal, such as "the cleansing of the world of all criminals and all evil". He may go as far as to create the philosophy of an entire dogma behind his irrationality. But the bottom line always remains the same: beneath the pompous speeches, the grandiose hand gestures and the carefully constructed demented grimaces that he displays in the mirror to convince himself of his differentiation, he is a human who bleeds like any other, only with more egoistic blood.

Perhaps a trifle too many praises had followed the young Light Yagami in his life, and that had been a problem all along. Everything had been too easy, too soon for him. When people have clapped their hands and widened sparkling, aghast eyes at everything you've ever done since the age of four, then your sense of self becomes distorted. You "lose sight". You can't see the big picture that everyone else - simple, stupid everyone else - is easily looking at. Your understanding of the world and your capabilities becomes limited, ironically, by the very way your mind has grown so complex and your chest so easy to puff. Their praises and congratulations become the cries of the roaring crowds under the guillotine, bloodthirsty and calling for your execution. Their hands as they clasp yours in proud handshakes become shackles, manacles binding you onto the ornate, seemingly beautiful, nefarious prison.

The prison of vanity.

It's the worst one, and the Gods of Death know it. They know what you're thinking, you poor human. They know how easy it is to excite your human mind with thoughts of ambition, how hotly arrogant the blood that flows within your veins. Deep down, even though you understand the repercussions of admitting it, you think you're smarter even than the Reaper. You think you can cheat Death, because you're _just that good_. You think you're witty, writing down pretty names with your little pen, sitting in your cozy room. And when your mind takes the big leap, and dares to think it's equal to a God's, then the true Gods laugh within their nasty, rotting heads.

But you're not as courageous as you think. You've never plunged your fingers in their bodies, have you? To clasp the breaking vertebrae as their fragile hearts freeze. Your hands retain their porcelain pallor, your slim wrists and the soft curve of your nape move as tautly as the strings of a harp as you sonorously recite names and faces, marking them for Death.

It has been decided. You say.

Marked for Death. You say

"…_Kira – sama…"_

Death within forty seconds. You write.

Better to be hated. At least they'll remember you when they hate you. They'll remember you with passion. Yes. Better to be sent to hell. At least, through the torturous dungeons and fires that smell of burning vomit, you will know that God was angry with you enough to torture you. You will know that God admits your existence. You will exist. In hell and in pain, but you will have been confirmed as special.

But not this.

Not this.

"Didn't I tell you I'd write your name on my notebook one day, Raito?" the fierce yellow eyes sing their dirge, wide and unblinking as ever.

"Oh! Don't worry…the user of the Death Note cannot go to heaven or hell after he dies. When you die you'll see…**nothing**."

And you shall be lost from the world. You will not be 'left alone in a sea of darkness'. You will not be 'left alone in a sea of light'. Nothing doesn't mean alone. Nothing means _nothing_. Your eyes and ears will stop existing. Your pretty fingers, which have written the deaths of a hundred thousand men, shall dissipate. Your living thoughts shall evaporate. And you shall vaporize from the galaxies and the universe, and the material that composes your soul will crumble to dust.

Ryuuku never was one for long explanations. He knows Raito is smart – let him figure it out by himself. But even so, as he writhes on the floor in arrogant pain and suffering, Raito is not intelligent enough to realize that he's screwed up. Had anyone marched up to him at the very time of his death and asked if he were sorry, Raito would have barked that of course he wasn't, because this denouement was never his fault – it was always somebody else's fault, because Raito is flawless. He is Special.

And indeed Raito died. And after his heart stopped beating, and his eyes shut, nothing else happened. He just died. The soul inside him was destroyed, pulverized into a million pieces and dispersed in the atmosphere. He didn't see any tunnels with lights at the far end.

He just didn't exist anymore, which was proof that God didn't even want to see him repent. Obviously, God didn't want to see him at all. Even the smallest, most pathetic worm can revitalize a tail. But all it took for great god Raito to die and finally shut his mouth was a few Shinigami chicken-scratch on a black notebook.

For years and years after his death, the occult Covens would try to devise all kinds of evil spiritual talismans, hoping to resurrect him. Whenever Japan was in crisis, whenever the politicians and the zaibatsu (1) seemed to be starving the country's resources a trifle too fast, or whenever the blonde, blue-eyed Americans nationally insulted us with their annoying Hollywood anti-culture (2), we'd try to resurrect Kira-sama so that he'd bring order back to the world. The man whose hands have dripped with the blood of a hundred thousand men. He'd set the world right. He'd kill all the evil-doers.

To bring the Killer Lord back from the dead.

They tried everything. They composed hymns and Killer sutras, they wrote Bibles of Death, they wrote Appendices, they drew hellish paintings, they conjured spirits, they invented scions, they partook in orgies, they almost sacrificed newborn female children on altars. They even resorted to rather laughable imitations of American Heavy Metal, 'Gothic' bands. But Kira _still_ wouldn't be resurrected, and if he ever did, it probably would have been in order to stop their ghastly music.

They didn't stop trying, though. Well, how were they supposed to know that Kira didn't exist in the world anymore? To them, Kira was like an angel. A saviour. A saint. The thought that he had stopped existing was preposterous.

How were they to know that the Reaper, after he forces you to amuse him and laughs to his heart's content with your plight, throws you away and burns your soul to ashes, without caring?

Even the last of all humans has a right to be in one of the hells. But not Kira. The man whose hands still drip with the blood of a hundred thousand men. His damnation doesn't _deserve_ punishment.

When Light Yagami died, despite his being a criminal overlord, all those who knew him attended the funeral. His most personal belonging was the Death Note. They didn't put it in his grave. No one wanted to admit it, but most were still afraid. Subconsciously, they thought that if they left him alone with the notebook, even in his coffin, he'd probably start killing again. No. Best burn the accursed book and bury Yagami on his lonesome. Just to be sure.

After the burial, Near himself seized all of Raito's property and spent hours in Raito's rented house, rifling through files and folders, admiring the noticeable lack of murderous signs he found in Raito's living space. Raito hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't a murderer. He had probably truly believed he wasn't. There were no perverted trophies from his mass slaughters adorning his bedroom walls, and no conspicuous small rooms with hidden torture arsenals. Obviously, Raito wasn't enough of a psychopath to enjoy the act of physical murder, but was enough of a sociopath to take another man's life without so much as a flinch.

It was in fact very possible that, until he died himself, he hadn't truly realized the actual repercussions of his actions. He'd probably been thinking of the whole thing as a grand game of chess, where he'd been wiping out the opponent's pawns. He'd never once wondered, like any other human with mediocre IQ would have in his place, whether the pawns were in actual pain.

When Raito's body collapsed from heart failure in front of Ryuuku's pointy feet and sharp teeth, Matsuda had been the only one who'd shed a tear or two. Some had kept observing with disgust. Others with disguised pity and a few with surreptitious glances of malice. Near, as non-committal and expressionless as always, had approached Raito's corpse and shuffled through the pockets of the blood-covered suit, like the uninhibited investigating human computer that he was.

Matsuda, Mogi and Near's party had all gathered around the body to stare. Ryuuku had long floated away to tell his Shinigami chums the news, cackling the whole time. As Near bent over Raito's once proud figure, he didn't bother closing the corpse's eyes. He left Yagami's face frozen there as a display of a barbaric mute scream, in a stony grimace of paranoid, wild tremor. It seems Raito had been staring at something before he died, as though the glassy eyes of his corpse alone could see the dripping, bleeding hands of a hundred thousand men reaching forward to strangle him.

Near pulled Raito's wallet from a pocket and unabashedly opened it to skim through the contents. He paused when his eyes fell on a slightly crumpled piece of paper, buried in a tight stack of the wallet folds.

Now, most people who had a relationship as long-lasting and committed as Raito's with Misa would keep a picture of their beloved in their wallet. It was fairly obvious to everyone present – except perhaps Matsuda – that Raito had never really been in love with Misa, or even cared about her in any way beyond that of a moderately useful tool. Therefore, the lack of her picture was not surprising.

But the existence of another picture was.

Near touched the thin piece of paper gingerly, in that familiar insect-like way he touched all things – almost ghost-like in familiarity, for those who'd known the predecessor. He plucked it out of the folds of the wallet, displaying it to the audience gathered around. It was a photograph, very old and worn, with the characteristic magenta tinge of old film, and cropped haphazardly at the edges. Near felt a very distinct, very human pulse quicken on his white-covered, usually cool temples as he stared at the figure in the picture.

The ignorant members of Near's team asked about the identity of the face in the photo, but Matsuda and Mogi's faces said everything. Near looked at the picture too, his usually restless eyes unusually still. A pair of eerily familiar dark orbs stared right back at him, poised like black jewels within planes of pale skin. It was the picture of a child, not more than nine or ten years old.

The boy in the picture was standing in slightly hunched – but not deformed – position, wearing a soft-looking beige coat, which reached a little beneath his knees. He had a black scarf and black mittens on, to match his rough batch of tousled locks. His wide, black eyes were unclear in the photo, but seemed uncomfortably bottomless in their ebony colour. His expression was one of skittishness – perhaps weariness – not of childish excitement. In the background of the picture, Big Ben towered over the House of Parliament in London. The boy looked minuscule compared to the impending tower, his already vague expression completely lost in the sea of shadows.

Near wasn't sure where he'd seen that face before, if he'd ever seen it. But it vaguely reminded him of something he sometimes saw in the mirror. A shadow of dark hair and soft fabric he'd known during his toddler years, a feeling more than a memory. He'd never really seen L, after all. But how, why and when had Yagami…

"Is that-" Matsuda started, but never managed to complete the statement, aghast as he was.

"Ryuuzaki…?" Mogi finished it for him, the same disbelief in his voice. Why would Raito…no…Kira, have his worst enemy's childhood picture in his wallet? How had he gotten hold of it, when it was universally known that Ryuuzaki had always refused to take pictures or give information about his background…who knows where Raito had acquired it? _Why_ would he want to carry Ryuuzaki's picture everywhere he went? Ryuuzaki, the man killed as a result of Raito's own efforts. _Ryuuzaki_ of all people, who Mogi hadn't thought about for at least two years and whose distinctive ugliness in both form and facial features could only be matched by his incapability in table manners.

Near didn't comment, just gritted his teeth surreptitiously. He slipped the picture back into Yagami's wallet as carefully as he'd removed it, in the exact place and position he'd found it, and then entrusted the wallet itself to one of the members of his elite investigation team. Matsuda and Mogi never saw that wallet again. A few more years after that, they'd almost completely forgotten what Ryuuzaki ever even looked like.

They couldn't really remember his facial characteristics. All they could remember was a distinct sense of…attractive ugliness, somehow. Ryuuzaki had never been the man schoolgirls would call even remotely good-looking: his customary slouching posture was not flattering for the male physique, and his notable lack of facial hair, along with the unusual fullness of his lips, could render him mediocre at best, if not hermaphroditic in terms of appearance.

But some of his more prominent characteristics, the ones he wasn't as reluctant to display, such as the length of his fingers, the pallor of his skin, or the soft-looking, androgynous curves of his throat, had carved a decidedly sensual atmosphere to his remembrance. The whispered memory of his bizarre elegance lived as a legacy of impression in the minds of the few who had known him – as a person and not as a machine.

With Raito it was the exact opposite. They all remembered the striking, classic beauty of his appearance. They meticulously recalled his distinguishing characteristics and not so much the way he moved or spoke. Everyone had always agreed that Raito had been a particularly good-looking man, not at all monstrous, spidery or deformed like Ryuuzaki.

Even so, even though he was so very attractive, people always recalled Raito's body with a sense of sterilization. Unlike Ryuuzaki's strange, underlying sensuality, and his skin which, despite its pallor, had looked soft, pliant and voluptuous to the taste, Raito's body – perhaps because of its strict, tight musculature – had always been remembered as something desensitized, unapproachable, cold and empty. His gestures were forgotten. His soul evaporated from his body, leaving nothing but an empty, though beautiful, carcass.

In this way, each was reduced to nothingness in others' memories, each in their own way. The legendary tales of their fatal cerebral duel were gradually forgotten. The universal dimensions became calm again after the Killer's death, and all was right in the world. Ironically enough, a few humans were killed by Shinigami here and there, but never as massively or as creatively as they had been by other humans.

In fact, constant gambling and the decay of general disinterest had prevailed more than anything in the dull lives of the Reapers, these days. Even when Ryuuku decided to meddle with more humans and tried to amuse himself by provoking situations equally chaotic to the former one, he was to be sorely disappointed, since no new 'Kira' ever lasted for more than a few days at a time or provided satisfying amusement. There were no grandiose fights for justice and no mind games. No suspense. Sure, humans were always interesting…but…

Soon, more and more Shinigami kept realizing that they'd forgotten to write human names in their notebooks, or even care about their own sad, long lives. In the calm oblivion of prolonged non-existence and the persistent uneventful routines of both the living and the dead, Reapers with anxieties became aware once again, as beings usually do – as even Kira-sama, the Killer of a hundred thousand men did – when faced with imminent death and permanent extinction.

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"**zaibatsu" are the corporate giants, the financial conglomerates, who have at various periods amalgamated to control the political and economical events in Japan. This has been going on since the Middle Ages.**

**certainly not intended as an insult. Heck, I even want to go to college in America. It's just something I've heard Japanese nationalists say, sometimes, and thought it was funny.**


	2. Panic in Pluto

**Wow! Thanks everyone! I got more reviews than I'd thought! You made me very happy! I'm giving you the next chapter, not as short as the prologue but not long enough to become annoying, I hope. Now I'm getting really excited about this! Truth is, I can't wait to write the next chapter. You'll understand why! **

**In this chapter, we focus on the Shinigami - this is the start of the adventure.**

**I hope everyone enjoys it! Thank you for your feedback! It makes me so happy! Please excuse possible grammatical errors! I'll check it again as soon as I have the chance!**

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"Hey Kaosu…did you see my notebook anywhere?"

_Probably not_, Ryuuku thought monotonously as he sat on a nearby abandoned boulder. His brow was furrowed in a skeptical expression as he listlessly – and extremely unenthusiastically – chewed on a shriveled apple. Apples from the Reaper world were truly so unlike the juicy ones of the human dimension.

"I swear I left it here a few moments ago…" the other Shinigami, Manku, kept muttering in a slightly worried tone.

"Oh man…if this goes on, at this rate, I might…"

This kind of situation had become a regular occurrence in the world of the Reapers. It seems that their idle gambling and bored degeneration had caught up with them, at last. In the past few centuries after the entire "Kira" ordeal, since Ryuuku had returned to the Shinigami world, more than fifteen Shinigami had perished. This was an alarming number, considering that the accustomed Shinigami fatality rate was less than three per one thousand years.

The Shinigamis' world and rules were an ancient matter. In the good old times, when the Gods of Death had still been eager for bloodshed, they'd spend days and nights toying with humans, writing names down. Kind of like what Raito's Kira had done, only the ancient Shinigami did it better. But nowadays…well, the world wasn't what it used to be. Even the Reaper King was bored of all these idle matters. 'Oh man…life and death…aren't you sick of all this crap? Who cares what humans are doing? Card games have more fun!' everyone said.

But it seems that the ancient traditions of their soul-eating lives did not cooperate with their passion for gambling. It was a fact that if you didn't write a human's name once in a while, you'd die! And Ryuuku's current friends, absorbed in the lethargy that their absolute power had to offer, usually couldn't be bothered to write even that one name.

"Ryuuku…that's right! Ryuuku will know for sure! Have _you _seen my notebook anywhere?!" Manku approached, the patched up rotten skin of her head dangling, and her swollen eyes glowing green as she spoke.

"Sorry Manku…can't say I have." Ryuuku responded, clown-like smile always stuck on his face, like that of a puppet in the night. "Why don't you search by the rocks near the Titans?"

The Titans. Disgusting creatures. They were the most ancient Shinigami – the equivalent of what dinosaurs are to humans. The Titans hadn't used notebooks back then. They would kill their humans very creatively – either create earthquakes or erruptions of volcanos… even lethal storms! Real havoc. No one really knew how the Titans died – some say that after they'd destroyed millions of humans, they'd killed each other. In any case, now they were dead and their gigantic corpses had been left in the Shinigami world for millions of years, fallen and rotting. Most of them were in advanced stages of decomposition – bones showing, innards melted. But the mass of their bodies was so huge, it was estimated that it would take approximately another 15 million years for them to fully decompose and disappear. Ryuuku was so _bored_ at the prospect of sticking around for that long.

"Oh jeez…it's so troublesome to go down to the Graveyard now…urgh…" Manku was muttering, and Ryuuku admired the fact that, even though she was practically on the verge of death, she was still reluctant to take much action. What was their world coming to!

"Hey Manku…" a third Shinigami, Kyuubu, floated toward them. He had long, fuzzy white hair, but they were all bleeding at the roots, making his head have an interesting colour scheme. "Why don't you just take one of the notebooks of the Shinigami that recently died?"

"It's no use" Ryuuku said, his permanently smiling face, combined with his vaguely amused tone, making him sound as though he was rather entertained by the entire ordeal "Have you forgotten that a Shinigami cannot claim the ownership of a dead Shinigami's Death Note? Only a human can."

"In other words," Kyuubu said, a slow beam of dawning realization lighting his minuscule, black lenses "If a Shinigami dies then we can't use their notebook? Oh man…then all those wasted notebooks"

"You're naïve, aren't you Kyuubu" Ryuuku said in a half-sympathetic, half-drawling tone "You may end up like Manku if you don't remember the Rules."

After a small pause, the silence was broken once more "I have to go." Manku sounded truly panicked now, probably having realized that she would _actually_ die if she didn't find that notebook soon enough. They were talking about her as though she was already dead.

As Manku floated away to the direction of the Titanic bones that were protruding from the ground, Kyuubu turned to Ryuuku. They stared at each other briefly, and Ryuuku grinned even wider than he usually did. It was obvious from the fierce, slightly bloodthirsty narrowing of his eyes, that he found this situation entirely too entertaining.

"And what about you, Ryuuku…?" Kyuubu non-committally asked, bony red finger pointing toward Ryuuku's leather belts and silver cross accessories "Do _you_ have your Death Note in a safe place?"

Ryuuku chuckled heartily, as though he were truly enjoying the situation. A break from the boring everyday routine was always welcome, even though it was to the disadvantage of his fellow kin.

"Hehehe…Kyuubu…" he let his usual drawling tone become even more derisive "I always take my own advice."

And like lightning, a thought passed through his mind – an image he had not recalled for a long, long, _long_ time.

Yagami Raito, writhing on the floor in his bloodstained blue suit. Hoping that the Reaper would pity him.

He he he…

Wrong Reaper.

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Every species has a distinguishing characteristic, which makes it special and facilitates its basic living requirements. In this way, the piranhas' sharp teeth can chew through the carbon-based compounds of an entire mammal within minutes - if not seconds. The long necks of giraffes allow them to reach the highest of the jungle trees, and receive their food safely and easily. When it comes to humans, their precious brains are the leading force. Without his brain, a human is nothing – he can't even find food.

Shinigami, creatures as they are, also have a powerful characteristic, which helps them better adapt to their physical environment. No, it's not the hunches on their backs. It's their eyes.

Ah…their eyes. Wonderful contraptions. Without the powers of their eyes, the Shinigami would be completely crippled. Not only would they be unable to feed on humans, but they would be unable to function in the Shinigami world, where everything is adapted to their divinely 'perceptive' eyesight. Their eyes have multiple abilities, most of which they naturally never reveal to humans. The predator never informs the prey.

Therefore, the most important and potent of these abilites can only function when Shinigami eyes are placed in Shinigami sockets. In other words, the ability cannot be used by a human who has conducted the 'eyeball trade deal' with a Shinigami. When a human acquires the eyes of a Shinigami through the trade, the human can see the lifespans and names of all other humans, except himself and users of other Death Notes. This doesn't stand for the Shinigami themselves, who can see the lifespans and names of all humans indiscriminantly –including Death Note users. Therefore, always in correlation to the basic purpose of the Reapers' eyes, the Shinigami always retain an advantage in relation to human prey, even after conducting the 'Covenant of the Eyes'.

In order to understand the wonderful and extraordinary mechanism of these eyes, it is integral we first understand their purpose of existence. This way, we can later discuss and assess the reasons why the mechanism has been created the way it has.

Safe to say that the eyes of the Shinigami have only one purpose: to give the God of Death an advantage in relation to the prey. The eyes will produce information on any creature, as long as it relates to the creature's Death. In this way, no matter what the human prey attempts to do, the Shinigami can always summon information and keep his advantage.

Now that using Death Notes has become the official procedure, the eyes of the Gods of Death have adapted to showing only the basic required characteristics of the prey: the name, the face, the lifespan. Out of all these elements, the lifespan is most useful to the Reaper, since he can see how many years of life he will be adding to his own lifespan, if he decides to kill the human in question. A Shinigami can see his own lifespan, and that of other Shinigami.

In this way, if the Shinigami sees a human whose life will end in fifty years, then, by killing this human, the Shinigami will gain fourty-five years of life. If the human has two years left, then, by killing him, the Shinigami will gain twenty one and a half months of life. It's hard work detecting the human who is most fitted to the Shinigami's needs, seeing as the Shinigami will always gain ten per cent of life less than the human lifespan he has taken. 'Income taxes' they call them - the procedure is always troublesome.

The eyes are designed in the way which best facilitates the God of Death in finding suitable prey. Therefore, when a Shinigami approaches the prey, the eyes will tint everything in relation to the prey with a distinctive red tinge. In other words, the Shinigami know when they are near humans, because their eyes begin showing things in red. There are glands in Reapers' eyes which instigate this pleasant and extremely useful reaction, which helps alert the God of Death about the existence of potential nutrients in close vicinity.

This reaction has one last application. When objects in the environment have been used in the past or are being currently used to plot a process of Death, the Shinigami can see it. If a man walks by who is holding a knife, and the knife is glowing red in the Reaper's eyes, this means that the man is intending to provoke Death using this knife in the near future, or has already caused Death using this knife in the past. This ability may imply under certain circumstances, that the Reaper can distinguish the less moral humans from the more ethical ones. But this is the least important part, since the Shinigami rarely discriminate based on the moral disposition of their prey.

The main and most potent use of the 'red glow' ability is in stealth and secrecy. Death Notes are _instruments intended to provoke Death_ in the future and the past. As such, they glow red in a Shinigami's eyes. Not only that, but because Death Notes are the _Shinigamis'_ weapons, there are rules written on each notebook, glowing in red, which can be read only by the Shinigami and not by mere human eyes.

In this way, when Yagami Raito holds the Death Note for the very first time, he can read rules written in crass English with white, bonedust ink.

"How to use it: Rule 1", Yagami reads, "the human whose name is written in this notebook shall die."

But in Ryuuku's eyes, there are different things scratched on the blackness there, tinted with an attractive, glowing red tinge.

"Rule 1" Ryuuku reads "the human who uses this Death Note shall die by another Death Note."

"How to use it: Rule 2." Yagami reads "This notebook will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected."

"Rule 2" Ryuuku reads "if the human who is holding this notebook condones to the ownership and utilization of the Death Note, he has been Marked for Death. The human who instigates use of the properties of this Death Note is doomed to suffering and misery."

"Rule 3. The time and cause of death for the user of this Death Note are unspecified, except for the fact that he shall die from another Death Note."

Ryuuku smiles. His life has gotten more interesting already.

"Rule 4. The soul of the user of this Death Note is unable to enter Heaven or Hell, and will simply cease to exist after the time of Death. It shall become a Lost Soul, and can be used by the Reapers at their own volition."

"Rule 5. The lifespan of a Lost Soul is divided and added to the lifespan of all Reapers who are currently owners of Death Notes, not only of the Reaper whose Death Note actually kills the human. The lifespan of the user of this Death Note is not subject to the rule of ten per cent decrease and can be used at leisure."

"Rule 6. If the human user of this Death Note acquiesces to the Covenant of the Eyes, then the human's original lifespan is decreased by fifty per cent. The removed fifty per cent of the lifespan is added to the lifespan of the Reaper who has conducted the Covenant of the Eyes, regardless of the Reaper who is the true owner of the Death Note."

Ryuuku's face is always stuck in a permanent smile. It's kinda creepy, Raito thinks.

"Rule 7. After disintegration, the Lost Soul of the user of this Death Note can be reassembled by more than two Reapers in the Ceremony Nomenklatura to create another Reaper."

"Ha, Raito…you know, one day I'll write your name in my notebook! That will be interesting, eh?"

"Yeah…yeah I know Ryuuku, I know."

But the truth is, he didn't _know_.

-

"This situation is serious, Shi-ou! We're all going to die!" they were shouting rather loudly by now, harsh voices echoing in the barren, bleak landscape "First Manku and Seedu, now this!"

Ryuuku had never been really famous or friendly with other Shinigami. He was always a bit of a black sheep, seeing as he was one of the few still interested in things except gambling and lying around. The other Shinigami often scorned his actions, mocking him. Just as they had when he'd been living with the humans, begging for apples like a pet.

But this time, he had to agree with their protests. Life wouldn't be as interesting if he was left as the last Shinigami alive, after all! He was always careful to keep his own Death Note safe and never lend it or leave it out of his sight. After all, he was still alive, and another Shinigami could easily claim the ownership of his notebook. It seemed as though he was the only one with half a mind to do so. But still, was he going to be the only Shinigami left?

"Shi-ou, you're the king, aren't you?! Well do something!" Kyuubu's voice was heard, and Ryuuku remembered that day a hundred-and-two years ago, when Manku had finally died, not having found her Death Note in the Titan Graveyard. A few years later, about half a century ago now, another Shinigami had died. And today yet another! This was getting ridiculous!

Ryuuku was amazed. Where did they leave their notebooks? How could they lose them so easily? Although he had to admit that these days, ignorance and naivety weren't the only things to look out for. The Shinigami that were left alive – approximately two hundred in number – were growing desperate in search of new Death Notes. They'd started stealing from each other while they were still alive and could gain the ownership of notebooks!

The world wasn't a safe – or sane - place anymore, Ryuuku concluded.

"Silence! Silence I tell you!" Shi-ou's voice sounded, and Ryuuku thought that even he himself could make a better King of the Dead if he tried. Shi-ou was exactly like the rest of them, corrupt and degenerated. He was a pushover! He had stopped been able to take substantial decisions a long time ago, his mind of mould too occupied with card games and the futility of existence to care about matters of organization.

"We shall find the solution!" he started a harangue "The realm of Death has overcome crises much worse than this! This is nothing compared to the draught of a few years ago! Remember when the humans were killing each other with their World Wars and we couldn't find food anywhere?! This is nothing compared to that! Nothing! We'll make ends meet now as we did then!"

"Shi-ou" Ryuuku dared to speak, despite the anger that was hiding in Shi-ou's empty skeleton sockets "I beg to differ. If we don't do something now our race will be wiped out, right? Best if you tried finding everyone new notebooks since they can't do it on their own, eh?" he finished with his customary drawl, smiling face gaining a look of amusement combined with petulance.

"Shut up, Ryuuku!" someone shouted from the back of the council, and Ryuuku lethargically turned around, vaguely entertained and not at all disgruntled.

"Yeah, shut up! Humans' pets don't have a right to speak amongst _real_ Shinigami!"

"You twisted, disgrace for a Reaper!"

Ryuuku immediately raised is hands in a gesture of mock-surrender, his smiling face becoming genuinely clown-like as he comically hopped from one foot to another "Fine, fine! I just made a suggestion!"

"Well we don't need your suggestions! Go find humans to talk to, you pervert!"

"We'll steal your Death Note and then we'll see who's laughing!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez, I got it! Don't be so pissed!"

"Back to the matter at hand." Marisu, one of the older and wiser Reapers, Shi-ou's personal counselor and honourary member of the Council, started saying "Shi-ou, I too agree that the situation can be overcome. I believe, in fact, that such a crisis was even necessary to reignite the sparks of creativity in our world."

Yes, that was the only problem with Marisu and the other elders, Ryuuku thought. They took a long time to get to the point, possibly because they were always trying not to provoke Shi-ou's anger. If you talk a lot to Shi-ou, he'll stop paying attention eventually. This was common knowledge, and the senators exploited it.

"It is a fact that our population is in danger." Marisu said, with a very finite and decisive look in his wide, unblinking black eyes. His body was extremely hunched as a sign of ancient age, and the filthy mane of his black hair, which was covered with drying vomit, fell over his buggy eyes in tufts. Marisu sometimes reminded Ryuuku of a human he thought he'd met, although he could never remember exactly who. "If we don't take precipitate action, our species shall become extinct."

The Council chamber, with looming huge bone-made Gothic Arches as its walls, had become silent. The two hundred remaining Shinigami, all assembled to take decisions for the first time in millenniums, were carefully listening to the calm orator. Ryuuku rather liked Marisu. He was slightly more interesting that the others.

"This crisis is the result of an increase in Shinigami fatality. This increase, in turn, is the result of the naivety of Shinigami as of late: while we're out gambling, we leave our Death Notes lying in groves and rocks, where they can be stolen, or worse, destroyed. Then, in the last minute, when we see our lifespan decreasing, we rush to find our notebooks, but by then it's too late!"

Various calls of agreement were heard. Ryuuku looked at Shi-ou's face, which had a grimace of barely-restrained skeletal anxiety carved on it. Seems like the King wasn't looking forward to taking decisions any time soon, when faced with this feisty crowd.

"The situation has reached very severe status. Because of the increasing desperation among us, many of us have resorted to larceny of another Shinigami's Death Note. This kind of conduct is positively unacceptable. It must be stopped!"

"But what are we supposed to do!?" A Shinigami from a few rows in front of Ryuuku and Kyuubu erupted "If we see our time approaching, and we don't have a Death Note, we can only resort to stealing!" a brief silence by everyone, and a raised fuzzy eyebrow from Marisu "…uh…not that I've ever stolen, or anything, of course…eh-heh…"

Marisu seemed to ponder for a few moments. Then, when he finally opened his mouth to speak, Shi-ou took his queue to make his own statement. Marisu looked decidedly put off at having been interrupted.

"It's true that the situation is bad! But you can always come to us if you have a problem!" the King suddenly stated, with the air of someone who thinks he's solved the Eastern Question. The golden cranium of his skeleton face was rather funny in its attempt to smile. The golden trinkets and jewels, which adorned his Indian feathery crown, were jingling as he moved his skull.

"Come to you? Come to _you_?!!" enraged voices echoed from all over the Council room, even from the darkest corner. Marisu and Leeru, the two most important senators, tried to silence the crowd.

"What good have you done us so far?!"

"Yeah! Shi-ou, you should have helped us!!"

"SILENCE!!" Leeru, the second high-couselor shouted, the jello-like, fluorescent green material that composed his body kept making disgusting squelching sounds as he raised and waved his hands. The unanimous non-breathing silence of two hundred walking corpses simultaneously filled the huge room. Even Shi-ou looked a bit intimidated, and Ryuuku shook his smiling head in inappropriate disapproval. And since the room was designed to host many more Shinigami than a mere two hundred, and since the world of the dead generally didn't have any insects or animals to make small sounds, the silence was extremely amplified.

"Good" Leeru continued, voice much more subdued now that he'd made his point. "The fact of the matter is that there are two primary solutions for our problem." He stated, and Ryuuku could practically, almost comically, feel the entire chamber – including the King – strain their ears to listen carefully.

"We must either find a way to acquire new Death Notes, or we must find a way to raise the general population. These are our two solutions. And since we can't procreate, I'd say the first solution is the best. We have to find new notebooks." Leeru concluded, with a look of determination in his beady red eyes, which seemed to float within his green, greasy skin.

"I concur" Marisu declared, wide black eyes widening and stilling impossibly more, as he made his statement. Many shouts of agreement sounded around Ryuuku, but he just sat there, curious and sensing that they had not yet seen the resolution of this problem.

And indeed, to everyone's surprise, Shi-ou, the great King of the Dead, became animated. Just like the dancing skeleton with crackling joints that he was, he stood up from his great throne of bones and walked forward restlessly. He raised his hands and the room immediately became silent – probably out of respect for his royal disposition than for Shi-ou himself, Ryuuku thought. The King's fully decomposed skeleton face appeared troubled.

"This option is not open to us." He started, and at once disappointed mutters floated around the room. The two high-counselors, Marisu and Leeru, seemed taken aback. "We all know that we don't get these notebooks for free. The last shipment, about three thousand years ago with the fall of Hades, cost us a good one hundred years of lifespan from the Lost Souls! Who knows what those leeches in Heaven will ask for this time!"

Ahh…the eternal problem of both the living and the dead: fiscal trade revenues.

"This is not the time to be stingy, though" a Shinigami near Ryuuku's left exclaimed, not with an aggressive but a skeptical tone "We need those notebooks more than we need the pool of lifespan from the Lost Souls."

"Hey! I have a better idea!" Kyuubu erupted, and Ryuuku braced himself –just as every other Reaper who knew Kyuubu - for the insanity they would undoubtedly hear this time "Why can't we use all the lifespan we have from the Lost Souls to extend our lives?" he asked. Marisu was the one to answer that, with a rather bored sentiment.

"We are _already_ using it. When a Lost Soul is disintegrated, the remaining lifespan is divided and added to all of us. If a Lost Soul has fifty years of life, then each of the two hundred of us who has a Death Note gains 1:200 of fifty years. Compared to other sources of lifespan, it's an insignificant number. If more Shinigami existed who were using Death Notes, we'd have even less lifespan to share. But, put together, the Lost Souls are a worthwhile contribution. It's not wise to waste them." Marisu concluded, and Kyuubu appeared more confused than any other time. Marisu probably detected this, but did not bother to elaborate. Shi-ou, however, in a prodigal show of thoughtfulness, thought it fit to make his former argument clear. Shi-ou's main characteristic was that, at times, despite his obvious carelessness and incompetence, he came up with some distinctly good ideas. Which was probably why he was still the King. That and heritage issues.

"These Death Notes come to us from those filthy merchants in Heaven." Shi-ou started "And in return for the notebooks with the power to kill, they ask for Lost Souls, a.k.a. lifespan. Sure, they care about the salvation of the souls themselves – we care about the lifespan. If they asked for one or two Souls, then that's fine – no big waste. But seeing as they usually ask for a lot more than that, and seeing as we don't have that many anyway, it would be catastrophic to surrender what few we have for backup!"

"Indeed, your highness." Leeru commented, in a tone which implied he was reluctant to admit his previous suggestion was erroneous, and that he'd been rebutted by Shi-ou of all Reapers.

"However, we can take our second option" a pensive Marisu broke the silence once again, this time his speech directed mostly towards the King, who was standing upstage in the chamber, rather than the audience. "We can try to augment the Shinigami population. This also involves using the Lost Souls. However, by creating new Shinigami out of the Lost Souls, we decrease our chances of extinction for certain. If, on the other hand, we trade the Souls for new Death Notes, then our survival is not guaranteed. We may have more Death Notes, but we still don't increase the population."

"But Marisu" Leeru started, his hands crossed and sniffing indignantly, probably having found a loophole to dismantle Marisu's suggestion. Ah, political rivalries… The audience was completely silent. "When a Shinigami is first made, they don't have a new Death Note, do they?"

"Of course they do!" Shi-ou unexpectedly exploded in a bout of self-indulgent brilliance "Did you really think I'd let those Heaven bastards one-up us once again? No, I made a specific deal about that: new Shinigami are given new Death Notes for free." After a small pause of apparent thinking "You're right, Marisu. This seems to be the best option." The King concluded.

"True." Leeru said, seeming more than a little aggravated at admitting it hadn't been his idea. Apparently, he rushed to find a defect in Marisu's argument once again: "But have you forgotten? It is not guaranteed that the Lost Soul will become a Shinigami."

Oops. Many displeased and disillusioned murmurs were heard from the audience, and Shi-ou appeared slightly nervous. He turned to Leeru decisively. "What are you talking about, Leeru? That shoddy Trial? As if a human can be victorious in something like that! Less than two or three humans have actually won the Trial in the whole expanse of history! Not to fear my fellow Shinigami! We're talking about humans here, not innocent souls. They'll fail for sure."

The audience erupted in derisive laughs and catcalls at the expense of all humans. In the meantime, Kyuubu, on Ryuuku's side, appeared slightly confused. He turned to Ryuuku and whispered urgently "What is the 'Trial'?"

Ryuuku rolled his eyes and shrugged his black feather-covered shoulders "Oh maaan…" he started "You really don't know anything do you?". Kyuubu seemed lightly embarrassed, but didn't say anything and waited for an explanation. Luckily for him, Ryuuku had a streak for explaining things, which is a part of why he liked fraternizing with humans so much.

"The Trial is something of an incubation period." Ryuuku whispered in amusement, as various Shinigami from the audience asked questions about the whole procedure and how the Ceremony Nomenklatura would take place "When we decide to turn a Lost Soul into a Shinigami, the Lost Soul is recreated, right?"

"Right." Kyuubu said, the dullness of his eyes implying that perhaps he didn't understand even that. Ryuuku shrugged and continued, frozen in smiling as ever.

"Well, when the Soul is recreated, it doesn't immediately become a Reaper. Heaven still gives them a chance – mighty generous if you ask me. They're not that worth it, eh?" he paused briefly, since a flash of glowing amber eyes flashed in his timeless memory. But he recovered almost immediately, not really knowing what he'd remembered. He'd lived for thousands of years, after all.

"But Heaven still gives them a chance. They are sent to Hell, where they must face the Trial – don't really know what it is. Nobody does. It's supposed to be their worst nightmare, in the form of some kind of tournament they have to overcome. If they persevere without wishing to die, or wishing to become Reapers…then they are Pardoned. If they fail…guess they become Shinigami like us, eh? We may get some knew friends."

Kyuubu smiled, the action making his skinless lips stretch, causing blood to ooze between his yellow, rotting teeth "I guess we're worse even then their worst nightmare, then?" he asked, and Ryuuku's frozen smile seemed to display teeth that were a bit sharper than usual.

"I guess, eh?" he drawled in return, and a new image flashed behind his eyes, the image of a slim wrist cracking murderously, as it slipped over cream-coloured pages. Guess humans didn't know, eh? That the pages of the Death Note are made from human skin. They can't see it, with their useless small eyes, but the Reapers can. When they look at the pages of the notebook, they can see fibers of vein and artery. With each heart that is written down, the skin of the page becomes thicker, more complex. They can see.

"Well, then." Leeru seemed more than a tad disgruntled " The first thing we should do is vote. All those in favour of reanimating the Lost Souls! Raise your hands!"

'Oh…Raito…would that be you?' Ryuuku thought in drawling notes, the smile etched on his face gaining new meaning. 'A Shinigami, eh? Look how far you've come…eh?"

And so, for the first time in millenniums, Ryuuku cared enough to actively participate in a decision taken by the Shinigami council, interested as he was in the outcome of the situation.

"In order to make sure that the Lost Soul doesn't win the Trial, we must choose carefully who we shall reanimate." Marisu was wisely instructing, after the decision had been approved and they were scrolling through the nomenklatura lists of Lost Souls "We can't afford to lose Lost Soul lifespan without gaining something in return. We must make sure that the souls we pick shall become Shinigami."

«Also,» Marisu continued, as the lists of names were passed around the audience «In an effort to stop the population from decreasing further, we will all aid the ones who _still_ haven't found or used their notebooks. If need be, as a last resort, although it is definitely not advisible, we shall lend each other Death Notes in order to remain alive.»

A small silence passed, in which everyone probably wondered where these new efforts would lead. There were very few left alive who didn't have a Death Note, most of them having died already by now.

«Therefore» Shi-ou the Incompetent picked up from Marisu's former speech, his cavernous eyes almost glowing red «We must choose the blackest, the most rotten, degenerate souls we can find. The souls that have used the Death Notes to provoke Death worse than any Shinigami has ever provoked, the souls that those straight-laced suckers in Heaven would _never_ agree to accommodate, under any circumnstances.» he let his speech sink in for a few moments «We need the souls that would never win the Trial.»

The memory flashes were becoming almost overwhelming now. Ryuuku found it strange. Though he had thought he'd forgotten all the details, Raito's face _still_ remained in his memory, etched with perfect clarity, as though his straight nose and almond Asian eyes refused to go away. He could remember Raito's sharp cheekbones, the pulsing jaw. His fingers, filled with bony joints: the hands of a reaper more cruel than any Reaper. Come to think of it, there had been another human. That other one...what was his name? Ryuuku could never remember. The only thing he could recall on that aspect were the almost spastic convulsions of thin fingers and an ecstatic passion for confectionaries, perhaps in parity with his own obsession about apples. He could, rather vaguely, even remember a kind of...of…

Well imagine that.

Humans are so interesting!

«...a soul as black as the midnight sky. Heaven is trying to work against us, but Hell is on our side, since we bring them treats all the time! It shouldn't be so hard!» 'Shi-ou's getting rather psyched about being a demagogue', Ryuuku thought. 'Perhaps Marisu was right and this crisis really _was_ what our world needed. Bah...we'll get through it. Perhaps something interesting may even happen in the meantime.'

Shi-ou was impassioned: «I want you to find me a soul of a Reaper! Filled to the brim with blood! 'If _you_ had a soul what would it be like?' that's what you must be thinking. I want you to find me something worse than that! A killer! Do you understand? A real killer, who kills for the joy of it! A bloodthirsty animal, whose goal in life is to _kill_! We _need_ this to work. We _can't _afford to lose these souls without making them one of us! We need-«

«Oi! Shi-ou» a voice was suddenly heard, and Marisu, who'd almost fallen asleep listening to Shi-ou, turned his fathomless black eyes toward the Shinigami who had dared interrupt the King's speech. He immediately recognized Ryuuku's distinctive, haunting smile and yellow, unblinking eyes.

«What is it Ryuuku?» Leeru asked from Shi-ou's side, struggling to gather his melting green flesh enough to speak loudly.

«Hehe...he...I think I might have what you're looking for, eh? Hehehe...» Ryuuku cackled « A 'killer of a hundred thousand men', eh? Hehehe! That's what you're asking for, eh? I know one. » he stated, and everyone present turned to see the unusual sight of Ryuuku's eyes glowing the distinctive Shinigami red, as though he were reliving some basic, elemental pleasure. Marisu had seen Ryuuku get so excited on very rare occassions. He shook his black hair out of his wide, black eyes to pay better attention. Perhaps…

«I'll give him to you, oi.» Ryuuku said, his face becoming darker, somehow.

The yellow glow of his sharp teeth was coming in sharp contrast with his shadowy skin, making his glowing smile reveal its much more honest, satanic nature.

«The killer of a hundred thousand men.»

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**a/n: yes, I made up some stuff about the Death Note and the Shinigami's eyes. When writing the 'new Rules of the Death Note', I thought the whole thing was kinda creepy. But of course, that's just me, being too absorbed in what I'm writing. I hope the action in this chapter was interesting, and the original characters not too annoying (a.ka. Manku, Kyuubu, Marisu, Leeru). I was really trying to give them some personality. Hence the disgusting evocations of their appearance. I was also trying to restrain my obsession with descriptions and focus on the flow of the action. Everyone bare with it, the bishies will show up pretty soon! Hope I made you happy! In the next chapter...da-da-dum!**

**Oh, sidenotes: **

**nomenklatura lists were used by Stalin in 1924-1941 in the Soviet Union in order to bureaucratically arrange the political posts within the country. Apparently, 'nomenklatura' means a list where the name, occupation and other information of a person is written. If anyone knows Russian, please tell us the exact meaning of the word. Stalin used his post as General Secretary of the Communist party and his access to these lists to juggle people around in political posts. Thus, he put his supporters in high positions while relegating his rivals. ****The result? One great dictator and lots of purges. **

**Shi-ou. Shi means death in japanese. Ou means king in japanese. Yup, I know. It's the best I could come up with. I don't remember if this guy had an actual name in the manga. Anyway, I'm sorry if his real name is the name I've used here. ****I didn't mean it.**


	3. Jigoku Gurotesuku

**Yo! I'm back! Okay, I have various things to say: first of all, thank you all for reviewing. Your reviews give me the fuel I need to keep writing! Please keep telling me your opinions – even if there are things you don't like!**

**That being said, I HONESTLY try to make my chapters shorter (since super-long chapters can be a little intimidating), but it's not working!! Argh! I promise that the length of this chapter will be the maximum I ever reach! I'll try not to surpass it.**

**Okay, so this chapter is completely disturbing, as people may have already guessed. I didn't know I had it in me to write so disturbing stuff. Let me just change the genre from "supernatural" to "horror", just to make sure. We really don't want ffnet to shut us down without warning for exposing violence to underage kids.**

**Warning: I strongly discourage people under at least sixteen years of age to read this stuff. Too much violence, blood and gore, kids. I've probably said this before, but, again, just to make sure.**

**Okay, on with the chapter. I hope you enjoy it. It may see, tedious and repetitive at times, but, as you'll soon understand for yourself, this is part of the point.**

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**Hell Grotesque**

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"_Death Note users shouldn't worry about going to Heaven or Hell. You'll enjoy it after you die"_

"_I won't go to Heaven or Hell, you say…that's enough for me to understand, Ryuuku."_

"_Hn? About what?"_

"_There is no Heaven or Hell, is there?"_

"_Ha! You really surprised me. I thought every human believed in Heaven and Hell…Ah, just as you said. Heaven and Hell don't exist. In the afterlife, no matter what you've done in your life, you'll still go to the same place. Death is equal."_

"_UWAAAAA!!! I DON'T! I DON'T WANNA DIE! I DON'T WANNA DIE! RYUUKU DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR HANDS!!! I- -_" (1)

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_Death is equal. For you and all those you killed._

_You're all equal, in our eyes._

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"- - DON'T WANNA DIIIIE!!"

ican'tbreatheican'tbreatheican't-

panic.panic.panic.panic.hate.panic.hate.fear.fear.panic.

I'mmakingitworseihavetostoppanickingihavetostopihavetostopi'mgonnadie!

Ican'tbreatheican'tbreathehelpmehelpmehelpmeryuuku

He was fighting it. Fighting it with all his strength. He'd had a nightmare like this once, where he was trying to inhale and was unable to, but now he couldn't remember anything. His mind was crippled with paranoia. He was going to die, he knew. Going to die for sure this time, there was no escaping it. He was done for. Done for, done for!

But by the time he realized he was thinking slowly, he also realized he could breathe again. He took a long time. God knows how much time he took. But, then again, there is no God, Ryuuku said. There is no Heaven or Hell. Therefore he couldn't really be dead… Since he was still breathing, there must have been some way to escape it. He must have been stranded in a hospital somewhere. White dressed nurses were probably hovering over him this whole time, as he was struggling to breathe.

…pathetic. He, Kira. How could he have let this happen?

Each moment that passed felt like an eternity; as though he was a newborn, learning to breathe all over again. His chest was in pain and every small inhalation hurt like hell.

Slowly, gingerly, he tried to open his eyes, the most natural movement. But the eyelids didn't budge. He could hear more than feel his heartbeat start to pound painfully in his chest. He started to panic all over again. Why weren't his eyes opening? What was- why couldn't he- ? He channeled all his strength in that area and kept trying. With each moment, days and days passed, where he was trying and failing to open his eyes. In the meantime, he was still labouring to breathe and move any part of his body that he could still feel.

His mind was racing frantically, his heart pounding. But on the outside, he was unable to express anything. Was this the immobility of death? A kind of desperation, where you feel there is fire burning inside you – you still want to live, you still have things to do – but you can't. You can't move. Some kind of force is preventing you from doing the most natural things, keeping your eyes closed and your mouth shut.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he heard a piercing sound, like a horrible, high-pitched cry. Startled as he was, his reflexes jerked and he couldn't stop the involuntary nervous reaction of his fingers. As they clutched the ground on their own volition, he realized that what he had grabbed was a handful of earth, even though he couldn't see it.

Thus, e knew he wasn't dead. If his kinesthetic senses were still alert, then he couldn't be. He had moved his fingers, despite himself. Therefore, with enough willpower, he could move the rest of his body. With enough willpower.

He lay there, fighting. Days and nights must have passed. He was still trying to open his eyelids. It wasn't working and it was horrible. It felt like he was never going to make it. But … He still had things to do – a life to live. A World to create!

He didn't know where he was located – he was probably still in the old, abandoned warehouse. Ryuuku must have been bluffing when he said he'd kill him. The Shinigami had probably killed everybody else –Near, Mogi, the whole lot. Just as Raito had instructed. Raito wondered, idly, if Ryuuku had also died for killing other people in order to help Raito live.

If he truly had died, then Raito would honour his sacrifice. He would perfect the New World and make sure Ryuuku's effort hadn't gone to waste. He had to give it to him though. Ryuuku had almost fooled him there, making him think he was being killed. Very funny, Shinigami. You always were a trickster.

Raito felt a twitch on his face, and realized it was trying to smile. He didn't have time to work on animating his facial muscles though, since after that it all happened within seconds:

He'd still been trying to stabilize his breathing, when, unexpectedly; a gust of cold air flew by and seemed to enter his lungs automatically. His reactions from that moment onwards were completely reflexive, and not at all controlled. He sat up wildly, as though thunderstruck, mouth rasping and trying to simultaneously exhale and inhale. It was an eye-opening experience to say the least: his eyes, that he'd been trying to open for the past few…days?…popped open immediately, as a nervous reaction. He kept blinking spastically, trying to stop and hating the fact that he had relinquished control of every muscle in his body.

He didn't process what he was seeing at first, since a pattern of black, white and fluorescent spots was dancing in front of his abused eyes. Besides, he was too preoccupied with trying not to choke on air. It took what felt like entire torturous hours for him to reconsolidate his breathing. The cyclone of air that was now ventilating through his system was overwhelming, compared to the meager efforts of before.

It felt as though he had been submerged underwater for more than he could possibly withstand and now been newly thrust to the atmosphere: on the one hand his lungs were struggling to convulse and breathe, but on the other this process was extremely painful in itself.

After a long time, when he finally felt he could somewhat control his reactions, both in terms of breathing and blinking, he tried to uncurl his fingers, which were still stuck with an iron grip on the ground. In the meantime, his eyes were finally processing what they were looking at. He recognized shapes, rather vague shadows. He thought he could see trees in the distance.

Since his mind had relatively stopped racing, and his heart was coming in relatively regular beats, he had some time to think about his situation more clearly. There was no way he was dead, he was rather sure about that. It was entirely probable, as he had briefly thought before, that Ryuuku had found some way to let him live, after all.

'_Thanks, Ryuuku. I owe you one. What kind of trick did you use? You could have warned me beforehand, you know…In any case, thank you. You will be the first one that Kira, the God of the New World, will remember' _he thought with an air of generosity.

He was waiting for his vision to clear, expecting to see either the crumpling roof of the abandoned warehouse or the white walls of a health clinic with a painting full of trees on the side. When his eyesight focused completely, however, he was in for a surprise. At the sight that greeted him, he involuntarily gasped, and immediately entered a coughing fit because of the unused vocal cords. It felt as though there was dust mingling in his lungs. But the state of his bronchial tubes was obviously the least of his problems right now.

He looked around.

Or rather, _tried_ to look around, without falling, seeing as he was standing on a circular platform with diameter not more than five feet. Protruding all around him he could see a sea of skyscrapers and not even one tree.

_Toukyo. _His mind supplied automatically within milliseconds. He'd recognize the Tower anywhere. He seemed to be standing on a…on a…television aerial? Not likely…how had he gotten there, anyway?

He noticed what he was wearing. It was a dark blue suit…_that_ blue suit, the one he'd been wearing the accursed day. He took a better look at it now that he was more sober than before, and saw blood splayed all over his legs. That's right, he'd been shot at the calf; he could remember that…but-…but he felt no pain in his leg now. Had he been healed in a clinic already and then brought…?

Wait! Had he lost his memory, or something? But he could still remember he was Kira…then what was happening? His body felt extremely uncooperative – as heavy and immobile as a tank. And it was entirely disconcerting to see the blood and dirt all over his clothes, without feeling any pain anywhere. What the…?

_What the hell?_

Immediately he turned to check his left wrist, where the rigged watch would be waiting. But when he saw his wrist bare, he remembered that the watch had been destroyed that fatal day as well. Why hadn't he used another trick to store pieces of the Death Note on his person? Now he found himself in a very unfavourable situation, stranded in a dangerous place without any way to defend himself.

Damn it! How could I let myself be brought to this? The God of the New World, Kira, is more powerful! I should be more wary from now on.

He was determined to reason out what had occurred. All right, first thing's first: had he really been standing up all this time? He'd felt like he'd initially been lying on the ground and, later, sitting up. He'd grabbed a fistful of dirt, hadn't he? Therefore, he must have been lying on soil. He looked down at his hand, fingers still curled and frozen in a gripping position. But when he managed to take a better look at what he was holding, he realized that it was, in fact, not the soil it had felt like. It was a fistful …a fistful of…

_hair_

"U-Urghh…"

Disgusted just by looking at it, he tried, fruitlessly, to reanimate his hands and let go of the slimy wad. But his fingers wouldn't unfurl, and his other hand was stuck to his side. No matter what he did, he couldn't move any of his limbs. And now, as he tried to move his head away and stop looking at the awful thing, he found he couldn't even move his neck, or blink his eyes. He was stuck, looking at it, as though someone was trying to tell him something.

The urge to throw up became overwhelming. He felt his stomach convulsing, but couldn't move to do anything about it. It got to the point where he thought he'd be emptying the contents of his intestines on his own, unresponsive hand. But at the last moment, as soon as the urge had become inexorable, it stopped.

He must have been going crazy… Was this Near's doing? Was this some elaborate scheme, using cyber technology and 3-D environments, to drive him insane? Now that they knew that he was Kira, what were they going to do…? But…but hadn't they died? If he was alive then they must have died, right?

But the multiple distracting factors of the situation weren't helping him analyze the situation with his usual mathematical precision. He may have been a master at controlling his emotions and thoughts, but every man, even Kira, has his limits!

The more he tried to move his face away, the more he felt his face leaning _towards_ his hand, instead. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, realizing he had absolutely no control over his own body and fearing the worst. How the hell had they managed to go this far?

He saw the thing he was holding come closer and closer to his nose and his mouth; the black batch of disgusting, muddied, wet hair, with blood dripping from the edges, He wanted to flinch, and he wanted to run. He wanted-

Wait! Was that a-…fire? He could've sworn he just saw something light up at the edge of his vision. It's not as though he could exactly turn his head around to look at it, now is it? But there seemed to be something like fire in the Tokyo streets beneath him. It must have been a robbery or something – maybe even a murder case – and now the culprits were escaping. If only he had his Death Note with him…

No sooner had he let the thought run through his head than he felt the slimy, weedy hair be shoved in his mouth. His own hand, out of his control, was pushing that disgusting thing in his throat, his own curled fingers hitting the back of his neck. And he wanted to choke on it. God, he wanted to spit it out.

He could feel his oesophagus jerk convulsively, as each separate hair became tangled in his trachea. But he couldn't. It was unexplainable. He could feel himself choking on it and retching, but at the same time he didn't feel the satisfaction that accompanies such excretion. And as he kept trying, he realized that he was unable to _stop_ trying. He was trapped in a loop. His hand wouldn't stop shoving and his throat wouldn't stop convulsing. In any case, he couldn't be relieved. And now he couldn't breathe, either. He started panicking in silence all over again, not knowing how to stop and afraid he was going to die again.

Suddenly, despite his profound fear, he felt something move underneath his feet, as though the very ground he was standing on had started to shake.

'Another earthquake', his mind supplied immediately, seeing as he was still preoccupied with retching. It took a few moments for him to realize that it couldn't be an earthquake, since he was standing on a metal platform. The only logical explanation would be if- 

Paranoia overcame him as he felt the fragile floor dangle precariously to the left, and he realized his life was literally dangling on a thread. And worst of all, he could do nothing to prevent it – not even pull his hand from his mouth! He felt his innards flip in somersaults within his torso, this time not only because of disgust, but because gravity was playing tricks on his distinctly slim body. The suit wasn't helping either, making him feel itchy all over, since sweat, blood and dirt had gathered on it.

He risked a brief look over the edge of the platform, still unable to move his body. His eyes promptly verified what his advanced brain hadn't wanted to admit. He was miles above the surface of the earth. And what's worse, there was fire. There definitely was fire down there, waiting to swallow him up. He couldn't see it, but he could somehow feel it. He could swear he'd caught a glimpse of it earlier.

_I'm going to fall! I'm going to __die! No! No! Noooo! _It was the nightmare and fear all over again. But he was stuck in place, this time. He couldn't move, not his head, not his fingers, not his legs, not his brain. Kira was about fall more than sixty miles, with his own hand shoved down his throat, and he couldn't do anything to prevent it.

The platform jerked suddenly again, and he fought to close his eyelids in frigid fear, but wasn't even given that prerogative, preoccupied as he was with retching still. His brain was freezking in arctic chill: he couldn't even remember his own name now, let alone his grandiose plans for the New World. Who was he kidding? What 'New World'? All he wanted right now was to open his eyes and escape death. He couldn't care less about the welfare of the Worlds, and, for once, he was afraid enough probably to admit it. The only thing he could think about was that he was going to fall. Fall and break his neck!

He'd stop existing! This was it! The platform was giving in. It was rhythmically swaying like a little girl's swing, waiting for the gust of wind that would dislodge it from its hinges. That was Kira's life – a swing. Kira's life was dangling on an aerial. _He was going to fall and die like any other, useless idiot._ His heart was pounding in horror.

_No! Help me! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!!_

_No!_

«Yagami-kun.» he suddenly heard, a calm, deep, expressionless voice.

He'd heard it before. The product of his nightmares – the voice of a monster, he could have sworn. He knew, somehow, that that voice would hunt him down, if he wasn't careful. Like a jackal in the night, it would catch him unawares and eat his brain with sharp teeth. The scratchy vocal chords that produced it probably functioned like nails against a chalkboard. He knew he'd heard it somewhere before, and yet he didn't know where. He couldn't- he didn't- he fought to turn around and see who it was, unable to place the voice on a person.

But he couldn't- all he ever managed to see was the platform as it jerked. And his innards came in his mouth, and he wanted to turn around and see who it was, and he wanted to cry and call to God for help but he didn't believe in God and he didn't know who was calling him but he knew he had to turn around and he-

«ARGHH!» he choked and screamed at once, as he realized it was happening: he was falling. He was spiralling out of orbit. And even now, his limbs would not be cooperative and his hand wouldn't allow him the privilege of screaming – the wad of hair was still shoved down his throat. The only thing he could see was the ground, waiting to swallow him whole, to bayonet him.

Like a cruel irony, he saw flames light up in front of him, just as he was falling towards the ground, and realized he was right: there had been a fire. He had never felt sorrier that he was so observant. The only thing he could think of was that it couldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening to him. It wasn't rationa_l_. It wasn't true.

_It's not real...it's a dream. A bad dream!_

He was thirty miles from the ground now. He was screaming in his head, but in actuality was choking on the accursed hair. He could see the ground. He could see the cement of the pavement, where his brains and luscious chestnut hair would soon be splattered. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, where he was detached from the entire ordeal, he thought it strange that he could see no cars or people in the streets of Tokyo.

But, truly, he could only see the ground: huge and vast. To his terrorized astonishment, he saw himself in it, as though the ground was a giant, wide mirror. He could see himself drawing closer. And far inside the mirror, standing on top of the building he'd just fallen off of, he managed to see, in a paranoid flash, a dark shadow of a person. He could see-

The man who'd spoken-!

But before he could recognize anything, the ground and desperate fear became solid once more. He was going to die before he hit the ground, the logical perspective side of his brain tried to reassure him. He'd never feel the impact. He wouldn't-

_And then hands broke through the ground. _

Oceans of hands, stretching towards him. Hands dripping with blood. Two hundred thousand hands –they were reaching out of their graves for him.

_They're going to kill__! They're going to kill- _

_Noooo!_

Then terror gripped him, and he couldn't see anything else.

And he felt so much pain that he might have preferred dying.

-

He's fighting it with all his strength. He's had a nightmare like this before, but now he can't remember anything. His mind is filled with paranoia. He's going to die, he knows. He's done for, done for!

Wait a moment! He remembers. As he's choking on the air that fills his lungs, he can think again. He's felt this before...but not just in a nightmare. This horrible feeling...

…his heart is sinking.

He can't blink. He's trying. He's been trying to blink for…days? Wait, hasn't this happened before? He can still sense that black hair tangled in his teeth. It's over now, he tries to reassure himself. It's over now. I'm not dead. Bad dream, he tells himself. Bad dream. I can't be dead. I might have fallen, but I'm not dead now.

It takes time for his eyes to focus - the whole scene is still playing behind his eyelids. The ground coming towards him, the fires, the mirror, the voice... and…and..

_The hands._

The tremor that overcomes him this time does not belong to this world. It's bending his spine and breaking his thoughts. It's killing him all over. He's in pain, all over again.

But it's over now, he reassures. He must have survived it. He doesn't know how, and he doesn't want to think. It was just a bad dream, a nightmare. He must have survived it, though. Ryuuku must have had something to do with it. Must have…always a clown…he feels much better now, and decides to wake up for good.

He opens his eyes and he can see again. He looks around him…

_Toukyo_.

The thought is automatic.

He's had this kind of thought before. He's standing on a circular platform with diameter not more than…

…wait a moment…

Terror takes over completely. It makes his entire nervous system shake and crack. It makes his innards boil with molten lava.

_…no…please…no… …It can't be real…no_

He's lived this before. He's been here before. He can feel - but not see- a wad of 'earth' curled in his fingers and wants to scream. He knows, now! He knows! And it's worse when he knows. He'd thought he escaped this! No! No!

_their hands_

"No! NOOOOOOO!!!!" 

_will grab me_

He tries not to register it. His skin feels clammy and itchy. The hairs on his slim forearms are standing on end and his skin is dripping with sweat. He doesn't want to look down. He can feel as though his hand is clutching earth. H's afraid to look! _By now, _he's remembered God exists and starts calling for salvation. He keeps wishing the scenario won't repeat itself…that they won't get their hands on him…that somehow, things will go differently. The times he's called for God in this short expanse of time are more than those of all his life put together. He wants to believe that there is a God, and that he'll be spared.

But on the other hand, knowing what he's done to merit God's anger, part of him is still hoping that there is no God and that there is no Heaven and Hell. Ryuuku practically said so, didn't he?

"Urgh.."

It catches him unaware, distracted as he is, but it's still just as disgusting. It's filling his lungs; he can't breathe around it. He's seen it before somewhere, this retched black colour of the hair, but he can't remember where.

_The Hands. _ The memory strikes like lightning, and from that moment he can't really think or remember anything except that. He's still wishing for it not to be true, but knows within his gut that the punishment shall not be alleviated, like a guilty child that is caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

_Death is equal_

Should have known Reapers would lie. He'd always suspected the words of everyone except Ryuuku, after all. It was classic irony that Ryuuku would be the one.

When the platform shakes, he still tries to move his limbs, despite the desperation, but can't. Now that he knows the full horror, he tries to escape even harder. The slow vibrations – the wait for the inevitable – are the worst part of it. He widens his eyes as much as he is allowed, like a madman. In his head, he screams like a woman, now without shame.

( ( ( …_Kira-sama…) ) )_

Then, just like clockwork, the voice rings, like the harbinger of his doom. And when he hears it, the only thing he can think of is that he's going to fall. And what comes after that…_what comes next…_

_Help me!!! God!!_

"Yagami- kun"

The product of a nightmare – it's the Japanese sort of strictly polite, sugar-coated voice of a monster. He can swear he's heard it before. He spirals. The monster has signalled. He's falling down miles and miles. The ground burns and spits fire. Then he can see his own face –choking on the hair, shameless and not like a God at all. He believes in the all the gods, now, he swears he does. _He swears he does._ In his mind he begs a thousand times – but he still has ninety-nine thousand to go, he knows that. In the mirrors, the shadow is still standing there, black and minuscule in the distance. Then...

_then..._

…hands break through, and Raito is thrown to them like a steak to the dogs. Two hundred thousand hands

–they grip him. Their fingers are sure, their nails precise. They tear his clothes. It's worse than hitting the ground. It's worse than falling and dying.

His mind had erased it, last time. He hadn't had time, in his terror, to realize it: this is indeed how he dies. Not by falling. He's murdered, by the sharp nails of a hundred thousand men. They're killing him all right. They're ripping him apart right now.

Murderers. He knew they were murderers. Kira did well to kill them.

The world was better without them.

Ryuuku lied. The bastard! He lied! Or maybe he hadn't really cared what he'd been telling Raito all along. There might not be a heaven, but hell is right here. _Right here. _What would a slimy Reaper know about it? Does _he_ know what it's like, choking on black hair, feeling your flesh being torn?

«Ahhhhhh!!» he's screaming, in his head. But on the outside, all is silent. The only thing that can be heard are the squelching, wet sounds of flesh being ripped from the bone and blood oozing. Screaming from pain in his brain until the hands tear open his throat and vocal chords, and then he can't scream any more, not even in his thoughts.

It takes a really long time for him to die. He suffers very much. He bleeds all over and is in pain. He doesn't have eyes to see or ears to hear, but he's still alive – they've left his heart beating. It must be irony, since the only thing his Death Note ever hurt was their heart.

He's in pain, unworldly pain. He should have died by now, but this hellish place won't let him die, just as it won't let him pull out the god-damn hair. After they've killed him, when he should have died, he actually still lives. Lives and watches, with his mind's eye, as his own body, his angular broken fingers and ripped smooth thighs, rot.

He suffers.

He suffers.

-

ican't breatheican't breathe

panic.panic.fear.panic.panic.

But this time he knows. Each time he wakes up, it's as though he's already been dead for centuries. Who knows how much time passes between each time he dies?

_Toukyo_

The platform shakes. Now he remembers what kind of pain is in store for him. He's trying to stall. Trying to avoid the inevitable – it's just as bad as waiting for the Death Note to take effect, he realizes.

What seemed horrible before now appears like paradise, since he now knows the ultimate punishment. He's learnt to savour it – the taste of the disgusting hair in his mouth. Trying to learn how to breathe. It's heaven. Heaven compared to the pain he's going to face, he knows. The sense of inevitability he feels cannot be described in words. The feeling he has when the platform starts shaking, and he knows the pain is coming, is indescribable.

«Yagami-kun»

The monster, precise and polite. He swears he's heard it before. Their alarm. This is it. Now is the time that his role is to accept he's going to die-but-not-die again. Their evil bell has rung.

_Can you hear the bells...is it a wedding...or a funeral...? _ Is it Ryuuku? Maybe.

There is no doubt in Raito's mind now: he is dead for sure. He was dead all along, anyway. He just didn't want to accept it. Is this God's revenge? Probably. Ryuuku wouldn't care about him enough to do all this. Raito realized it when Ryuuku described it to him: no one bothers to punish the souls of sinners – no one cares about them enough. So why...what was the purpose of this elaborate torture scheme? What was the goal?

Sure, he was screaming in pain and humiliation. So what? There must have been some higher purpose.

He should have been more careful, but Ryuuku had said there is no heaven or hell. .And Raito had been only too content to believe it, since it suited him at the time. Well of course. What the hell would a Shinigami know of where souls go after they die? Ryuuku probably had been honest, in his own Shinigami way. Raito had taken that truth and 'adapted' it to his own way of thinking. He'd taken Ryuuku's words to mean that there didn't exist what humans understand as heaven or hell, and Ryuuku had verified it. But had Ryuuku been talking about the same thing...or what?

How could this have happened to someone like _him? _He should have paid more attention. He should have asked more questions. He'd become overconfident. He had-

The hair tastes like ash. The next time he falls to the hands, frozen and unable to move any limb, he focuses on tasting that disgusting, wet hair. Ironically, even though he thinks the pain will kill him, in the end, the blood loss probably does.

_«No!!! No!! Get your hands off me!!! NOOOO!!!»_

But the screaming is all in his head. On the outside, he's humiliated completely by being unable even to scream.

The first thing they like to dislodge is his fingers. They always start with the fingers. If he could, he'd tell them he doesn't have any part of the Death Note with him, so their efforts are fruitless. But he knows that even if he spoke, they would not listen. They're murderers. Each and every one of them. He should know.

As they juggle him around, each tearing a piece of clothing and flesh, he _still _can't move. Since they have just started, the pain hasn't yet reached excruciating levels. Therefore, he can still focus when he sees a flash of blond. Is that-

«Coil?» he thinks, but no words come out. It's definitely Coil, Raito could have sworn. But his eyes seem darker than Raito remembered. The prominent characteristics of his face have become his nose and mouth. He appears without a personality. And then...

«Ta-takada?» that's right, she would surely help! She had supposedly 'loved him' after all, hadn't she? But she can't hear his mental calls...she's too absorbed in what she's doing. Ironically, he thinks, she appears more passionate about hurting him than any guilty murderer he ever 'punished'. If he weren't in such horrible pain from her violent red nails, he'd grin at what batch of skin she decided to tear off. Takada...she was innocent, right? Then why does she seem the most bloodthirsty? Raito can't focus or see anything by now, though.

The pain has become too much.

«A-arggh!»

All the people he'd killed. Haha. Very funny Ryuuku. Very funny.

Only the people he'd killed...

Then that means that he'd never meet-

That's good then.

-

Fighting it! But he's done for! He can't inhale.

He has learned that the most peaceful time of all is the days that pass while he's learning to breathe again. Ironically, he has attempted more than once to prolong that period. But, as though his lungs move without his own volition, they eventually begin to breathe again. And then it starts all over.

_What are they trying to gain from this? __Harming me is a waste of time and energy...they must know this..._The detached, ingenious part of his brain ponders, always trying to analyse situations. _My repentance is hardly worth the trouble._

He has no choice, it seems. He is obviously physically unable to prevent the process. He can realize for himself that he is psychologically and mentally degenerating: his mental functions have been reduced to screams and pleas for help, even during the times he's not in actual pain. He knows how the scenario plays, and that makes the pain all the more unbearable. But there must be a _reason_, a purpose. It would be senseless to continue the torture if he wasn't expected to learn something out of it. That's how it works in books, right? First he atones, and then he is pardoned.

But in time, and with repetition, his trail of thoughts begins to deviate once again. Perhaps this torture is intended just to put him through unbearable pain, and that's all. That is what hell is all about, right? In that case, as he himself discovers, it's not that hard to make him repent. Raito has always been a bit of a dreamer, and he doesn't know about murder and the real world half as much as he likes to think he does.

It takes less than ten repetitions, less than ten times of ripping his skin open and watching them eat his own liver, until he starts screaming his pleas for forgiveness, screaming he is sorry for killing people, sorry for thinking he is God, sorry he is Kira.

It doesn't stop, though, no matter what he says. Perhaps they know that he says these things not because he believes them, but because they will help him stop suffering. And as he realizes that apologies and sugar coated pleas won't get him anywhere; he lets his true personality free and explodes in bouts of hatred and murderous rage, proving that his apologies had never been heartfelt.

Bu no matter what he says or does, the fact that he knows he'll see himself be devoured at the end of the day will not be alleviated. And in his restlessness, the more primal aspect of his personality, the one he'd always kept well hidden, begins to surface: the kind of thing he'd never indulged to when he'd been alive. He curses and spits, always in his head, as they rip him open. He proclaims that he is God in front of all of them, for the world to hear. He curses all their mothers to the devil - including his own. He curses crudely, like any petulant child of the junkyard. Ryuuku and Near are the usual pivots of his raging tirades.

Must he be sorry? They can go fuck themselves. By now, the pain has been repeated so many times that he can't find it in himself to feel at all sorry. For what would he be sorry? For having had the altruism to use his superior brain to improve the world? _Someone_ had to do it, right? And since God had chosen him for this purpose alone, then killing was deemed a _necessary_ sin – a just crime. Murder with the Death Note isn't murder when in Raito's hands – it's punishment for the sinners. He had been _chosen _and given that great power, because of this grand character in his life. He was a man who lived to serve justice, above all.

And he has killed many in the name of justice. And now he shall fight once again, to bring justice and punish the ones who are committing vile crimes and doing this to him. He is superior. He shall find and eliminate either Reaper or man, because he is now once again reassured that the perpetrator can only be one of these two. There is no Heaven or Hell. If there was truly a God of Mercy, he would not let His children suffer so, despite their numerous crimes. This…this…elaborate torture hallucination is too simplistic in its notion. It must be the product of a _human_, twisted mind. Not a God. If he'd been the one to devise a torture scheme, he'd have made it much more intelligent.

But this was getting just plain repetitive.

"_AARGH!!!!"_

Any kind of pain is bearable, as long as you know you'll wake up once again after it's over. Raito's greatest fear is not physical strain. It is non-existence.

"_Ahhhhhhhh!!!!"_

"_A-AHHH!"_

He will find out the name and face of the one who is behind this scheme, and he will kill. In order to prevent other people from persevering the kind of torture his is now going through, he will kill the owner of that voice. In the name of justice, once more.

He's lost count of how many times it has been. He tries not to think much. Every time he falls, now, he devotes himself to searching faces, trying to recall names and crimes. He always fails, and can't remember any of them, but he's sure they're all murderers, or else he wouldn't have killed them. People like Takada and Coil may not have actually killed anyone, but Raito had deemed them capable of it. Same goes for scumbags like Namikawa. Have they been lurking in this place ever since he killed them, waiting for him to show up? Murderers. Sad excuses for existence. People who the world is better off without.

They were pathetic. And he was they one who'd sent them here, which made him even more pathetic now. But he'd kill them again if he had the chance, especially now.

"Yagami-kun"

_fuck you!_ He wants to shout, but his lips are frozen as they choke on black hair. Truth be told, it doesn't sound like a menacing call. It sounds rather wistful, skeptical. It's as though that person is not condemning him, just genuinely calling him, as though making a greeting. Raito hates that voice more than anything else in the world – more than the hands. It is the voice, the signal of the inevitable, not the inevitable itself. Just as he hated the fact that Ryuuku actually showed him the name on the Death Note.

But then terror grips him, and he can't think any more.

-

The next time he finds himself trying to breathe, he thinks carefully what the purpose of this may be. By the time he gets thrown to the pain, he hasn't thought of anything new.

He senses that a long time has passed, and he finds it strange that he feels nor hunger nor tiredness, just pain and constant fear.

Then, one time, while he's recovering and trying to inhale, waiting for the inevitable, he finally senses a familiar emotion. And emotion he was quite accustomed to feeling the last few years he'd been alive. He tries to move his hands earlier than usual, this time – he wants to search for something. He tries to make his fingers work. He fails.

«Yagami-kun»

_fuck you_

He falls.

The hands eat him.

He suffers.

Next time he's lying down with his eyes closed, he tries again. The feeling is gnawing at his stomach. He needs to do it. He really needs to. It's a stupid habit, he knows, but it's been following him for some time. It's a bit of a secret fetish, but he prefers to think of it as constructive. Just once is enough to last him a long time. That's what he's thinking.

At some point, unexpectedly, he manages a small jerk. His left hand, the one which isn't gripping the wad of black hair, can move a little. Gingerly, as he's lying there trying to breathe, he tries to shuffle his hand a little more.

Yes! 

Indeed he can reach it. He can reach the inside breast pocket of his blood-covered blue suit. All he needs to do now is move a little more, and the wallet will land in his hands. Then he'll have to find a way to open it, real quick. He tries to move gingerly, almost afraid that someone is watching him and that they will fast-forward the whole torture process if they realize he's trying to deviate from schedule.

The relief he feels once his hand is in the pocket is great, but doomed to be short-lived. It doesn't take long for his perceptive, though still not properly oxygenated, mind to detect the problem. The pocket is suspiciously flat. The cool swell of his brown leather wallet isn't there. It's not there.

It's not...?

What?! 

His mind eloquently supplies, and, as though his troubles already weren't enough, he starts panicking with newfound plight. All his former thoughts of superiority and courage are wiped out in this single moment. He's lost it! Lost his 'moral support'!

Where the hell... Damn it! I had scraps from the Death Note sewn in it, not to mention...

_No!_

_I must have dropped it, since I keep falling from a building…_

Stupid habit. Honestly, he didn't really know why he kept doing it. It bothered him a bit, in the back of his mind, but he was usually too busy – and too unwilling – to sit and analyze it. Since he'd gotten used to it, he just kept doing it. It wasn't anything special, really.

It's just...He'd found this photo, back when he was still without his memories and still tied to...that man. The picture had been in the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed, and he'd picked it up absently, thinking someone had probably left it there by accident. He was planning on returning it, but since no one had mentioned its absence, he'd completely forgotten about it and left it in his pocket.

A very long time after that, he'd sunk his hand in that pocket and touched the photo once again. But by then, he... couldn't return it to the owners anymore... so he'd just kept it. As a ...uh...souvenir, more like. And sometimes he took it out and looked at it. It made him feel better. He'd think comforting thoughts. When he was in trouble and Near was closing in, he'd take out the picture and think..

_Ryuuzaki...I won...and now all that's left of you is this crumbling thing..._

Now you're buried six feet under... and I, Kira, the God, have become utterly unstoppable...

_Look at you. How __**pathetic **__you looked like, ever since you were a child. Ugly creature. Quasimodo. Your mother must have flinched when she saw you._

He didn't want to lose it.

It gave him mental and psychological support to remind himself that he was the winner. This had never been about _Ryuuzaki._ Ryuuzaki had gone to hell, where he belonged. Ryuuzaki had-

He should calm down. Kira didn't have quirky habits, except for writing names in notebooks, of course. Fine, so he'd lost the damn photo, the only photo he had of…big deal. More importantly, he'd lost the cropped pieces from the Death Note, which was why he was so bothered about this. Now he wouldn't be able to kill the one who was torturing him.

_Damn it! __I never lose-_

He sat up, opened his eyes and the panic started. Again, it took some time to focus, but the atmosphere around him felt chillier than usual. Maybe it had something to do with his own renewed anxiety.

The memory was too fresh in his mind, though. He was distracted by images. This time, when he saw the black hair being shoved into his face, he retched more violently than any other time, since his mind kept involuntarily noticing the similarity between what he was choking on and...

_How couldn't I notice it before? It's so much like-_

The constant renewal of the memory in his mind was not helping any.

Damn you! 

_Damn you to hell!_

«Yagami-kun»

Extremely focused as he was, on envisioning black hair and a glowing smoothness of twin collarbones, he had forgotten to stay alert and await the voice. But, exactly because he'd been seeing that man in his mind's eye, when he heard the voice, something clicked. Something...clic-

Wait a...

He tried to turn around, tried harder, more suddenly and more forcefully than any other time.

_«Ryuuzaki!»_

His mental shouts and cries were so frantic that they almost made it to his lips this time. He had to turn around! He had to see it with his own eyes! That toneless, dead voice. It had to be!

But he was too late. Too late.

_No! No! Wait!! Not yet!!! NOOO!_

New pain, breaking all over him, drowning him in his blood. He was going to taste it soon. He was going to feel it.

As he spirals to the ground this time, he narrows his eyes hoping to see in the mirror, even in the last moment, the shaded face of the man perched on the building. He thinks he can see the diamond glow that the white shirt would have in the pale sunlight, but he knows it's just his imagination. The only thing that is really visible is a small shadow. Nevertheless, even as the hands grab him, he tries to look upward, to turn his head and see.

And this time, as they tear off his clothes and break and bite his fingers, letting him rot on the ground until he can feel what's left of his skin fester, he feels more humiliated than any other time.

-

So this is the meaning.

That's what it's all about.

_Ryuuzaki..._

_This is your revenge. _

_It's not about the pain, is it? It's about the humiliation. To show me you won. I was right, then. It is the product of a human mind._

He had given up on trying to inhale. Now he only spent his calm time trying to grit his teeth. The weight of the black hair in his hands felt heavier when he was forced to grip it. He wanted to toss it away, but his fingers were locked in a death grip around it. He wanted to tear it, destroy it. How he hated it! He understood now. He understood perfectly. The irony. _Your_ irony..._Ryuuzaki._

You are much more cruel than you accused me of being. _Now_ I get it. You make me eat your hair and choke on it, and then you kill me. And you make me swallow it the whole time, just to make sure I remember.

_Humiliation. _

And you stay up there and watch, do you? Hope I put up a good show for you.

_I'll enjoy killing you all over again._

He grew restless. The need was now consuming his mind. He had to turn around and see, just to make sure! He kept searching his pocket, but he still couldn't find it. It was eating him up from the inside.

_But this time I'll do it with my own hands._

Each time the hands grabbed him and tore manically, through his screaming, his unblinking wide eyes kept looking at faces, searching, even though he knew he'd never meet Ryuuzaki there. Searching until his eyes were plucked out of their sockets and devoured by the cannibals. When they all grabbed his throat and scratched, he fantasized that his own ink-stained fingers were clasped around the familiar neck.

Months, endless hours in front of the computers, chained to Ryuuzaki like a dog. He'd memorized everything, even though he'd never wanted to. He'd learnt by heart each of Ryuuzaki's aggravating habits. He'd looked at Ryuuzaki's ugly figure so many times that, involuntarily, he'd learnt the mannerisms better than he knew those of his own sister.

Now he could see the white face becoming purple, insect eyes popping, throat being making sounds of pulverisation under his own fingers. Ryuuzaki would toss his hands around and writhe in pain, flailing his dessert spoon. His toes would convulse spastically and his legs would curl to bare the sharpness of knees, just as they did every time Ryuuzaki prepared for a fight.

Raito never knew he was a man able to experience such overpowering anger. He wanted to _kill._ Not with the Death Note, but kill with his own hands. His previous abstinence on physical issues had been vaporized in the face of his daily death. Now he just wanted to return the favour.

_An eye for an eye_, right Ryuuzaki? But you've gone too far this time.

«Yagami-kun»

How could I...

_How didn't I realize it sooner?_

It's so _**obvious!**_

Of course he knew the voice well: better than he knew his own, in fact. He'd been subjected to it for hours on end, at a time he'd been most impressionable. He had rushed to assimilate many of its toneless qualities in his efforts to impersonate.

Perhaps this had been the riddle he'd have to solve, then. And Ryuuzaki's torture had just begun. Because now that Raito knew that Ryuuzaki knew, he was tortured all the more. Now that Raito had solved the riddle and found the purpose, he'd done nothing but to severe his own position. He may have now known why he was been tortured, but the humiliation of defeat had become almost too much to bear.

_Ryuuzaki..._

The kind of physical pain you've put me through. I never thought you'd have it in you. I thought you only cared about winning, not about hating the loser.

«Yagami-kun»

I swear I shall destroy you. No one dares to play God with_ me._

But even so, as he heard the hated voice, and knew that it was sending him to his death, he tried to turn around beforehand so he would see where Ryuuzaki was standing. He'd tried to estimate when the voice would call so he would turn around soon enough. Even though he'd still have what he suspected was Ryuuzaki's corpse's hair in his mouth, he'd turn and see.

You may have beaten me in death, Ryuuzaki...but I won in the battle that mattered most to you.

Once would be enough. One moment of looking at Ryuuzaki's hunched back and the void of his black eyes, and he'd get the satisfaction of defying the situation, in some way. Because this was part of Ryuuzaki's torture, obviously: they both knew well that it was Ryuuzaki, but it was never meant to be openly revealed. Raito would be forced to hate in silence, as his muted screams exemplified.

It was obviously Ryuuzaki's voice, Ryuuzaki's hair...even the building Raito was always standing on. He'd had realized it once he'd started searching for signs…it was the Kira Investigation HQ of all those years ago, from when he'd stayed there with Ryuuzaki. He hadn't realized this earlier because of the bizarre location of the television aerial, and his own panic. But now he could remember clearly. The platform he was standing on was part of the accursed building.

«Yagami-kun»

_damn you!!_

It was part of Ryuuzaki's rules, it seemed: Raito was never allowed to see him. That would make the torture all the more humiliating.

The ground spits fires for a few milliseconds.

_Don't look-_

But Raito would break the rules. He'd win this. He'd turn around and see Ryuuzaki. Somehow, Raito knew, if he managed to see Ryuuzaki, he'd win this duel. It was the only rule he had to break -

just once-

-let me see you

«Yagami-kun»

_just once more_

_that's the way to win - I know it, now!  
_

He's falling towards his doom once more, but- he thinks he can see it in the mirror- yes!

He can! _He can see. _Minuscule but he can still see it, the thing that he's died so many times to discern: the blue glow of ebony hair in the light.

_It's real. __For once, he can't be conjuring it up. _For a brief moment, the fear of pain escapes him, and all he can think of is the overpowering need to see better – it becomes his only purpose.

and the hands don't break through the ground.

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**(1) this entire italicized first part has been taken directly from the manga. Why did I use an extract from the manga? To make my plot more believable and in-character. Please keep reading, and you'll understand. (I hope ;)**

**a/n: so there you have it. **_**Still **_**trying to stifle my need for long descriptions and still trying to keep Raito in character while putting him in a **_**completely **_**OOC situation. Please try to tell me, in your reviews, if you liked the way I portrayed the dynamics of Raito's relationship with Ryuuzaki. Always keep in mind that, since I've put the character in an **_**extreme**_** situation, some of his characteristics would surface more than others. Therefore, Raito may seem to you more of an uncontrolled wuss or more aggressive than he normally is. I tried to make this clear in the story. **

**Also, I hope everyone enjoys the way I try to evoke Ryuuzaki – ****his aura is there but, at the same time, not exactly there.**

**Tell me if you liked the whole horror thing going on. Did it work? Honestly, guys, I'm counting on your reviews! If you think this approach totally sucks, then I'm prepared to rewrite and retry! It all depends on your feedback!**

**Thanks, everyone!**

**Till the next time I update (probably this Thursday)!**


	4. Jigoku Berubaru

**Well, here you go, everyone! Chapter 4 ready to serve! Please excuse possible syntactical errors – I'm revising and improving anything I can! Thanks to everyone who reviewed – your reviews are the first thing I check when I wake up each morning! Wow! This story is getting more hits than any of my YGO stories when they were three chapters long.**

**School has finally ended (for GOOD, this time), life is looking up and fanfics are calling for attention!!!**

**I really hope you enjoy this chapter – I did when I was writing it. I liked it better than I liked the last one. Chapter three, in my opinion, was interesting but a bit tedious. I think this one is more exciting. The horror continues – not as intense as last time, but it's still here!**

**On with the chappie!**

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**Hell Verbal**

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"…We've already established this, Yagami-san. It is crucial that we obtain all documents that outline trading activities of the Yotsuba group's proxies in Europe between July 2002 and…"

"Yes, yes. I know that, Ryuuzaki! What I have yet to understand is _why_. Why do we have to monitor Yotsuba's interactions in the west? The people who Kira is killing are located in Japan, right?"

Raito hadn't been listening to the conversation so far, occupied as he was with memorizing names and medical records of Yotsuba employees. But when he heard a deep, not-so-concealed sigh come from his left, he was finally distracted enough to pull his eyes away from the screen.

Ryuuzaki's usual expressionless mask appeared rather strained, and his efforts to crack the biscuit he was holding were a tad too zealous. Raito had sat next to Ryuuzaki in front of the computers long enough to be able to detect and interpret these subtle signs before the storm. Ryuuzaki was getting aggravated. Well no wonder: they had to explain things ten thousand times in order for the others to understand.

By now, having been handcuffed to Ryuuzaki for an inordinate amount of time, Raito had realized that it was in his best interests to keep Ryuuzaki relatively pleased at all times. Not that Ryuuzaki ever got angry, bad-tempered or more annoying per se. But it was preferable to be tied to a Ryuuzaki who was susceptible to different opinions than to a Ryuuzaki who was extremely likely to resort to 'percentages'.

At times it became painfully obvious that, despite his meticulous efforts to speak in the Japanese unobtrusive, Ryuuzaki had never worked in a team before. He seemed rather used to ordering people around without having his motives questioned. Therefore, whenever anyone opposed him and he was forced to explain, Raito's chances of being Kira suddenly started shooting through the roof.

"Dad. It's just as Ryuuzaki says: we must track every single trading interaction between Yotsuba and other companies, regardless of what kind of companies they are. We might find a clue that can help us identify Kira's motives and narrow down the suspects. What if we find out Kira's a gaijin, working to promote the Yotsuba proxy in Germany, or something?"

A keen light of realization dawned in the Chief's eyes, and he nodded at Ryuuzaki and Raito's direction. "Ah…of course…" he muttered. As Raito turned and watched his enlightened father slowly walk away, he caught a small movement on the edge of his vision. He refocused on Ryuuzaki, who had just turned around and was staring at Raito too, with his big bug-black eyes.

"Thank you, Raito-kun. I daresay I couldn't have explained it better, myself." He said, not without a tinge of barely-traceable irony. Ryuuzaki's stare wasn't exactly a normal expression. It was the face of intense curiosity people usually have when watching reality shows. That was what real life was, for Ryuuzaki: an Agatha Cristie novel, waiting to be solved. "In fact, you read my mind with alarming accuracy."

Small, familiar bells began ringing in Raito's head. Apparently, he hadn't come to the rescue as quickly as he'd thought. Seems like Ryuuzaki had already gotten rather bitchy. Raito's hopes of attaining a private shower before dinner were crumbling to dust.

"Ryuuzaki?" Raito asked, feigning naivety. Fake politeness is a game for two.

"It seems Raito-kun's perceptive speed and reflexes are slightly better than mine…in fact…"

Another colossal lie. This one was up to par with '_because Raito-kun is my first friend'_ and _'I think that Raito-kun should be the one to take over the investigation if I die'_. Raito was smart enough to have understood the rules of the interrogation game, by now. In the first stage, Ryuuzaki always begins by posing blatantly untruthful statements, with a painfully honest face. Raito had soon realized that the purpose of this tact was to uncover Kiraesque reactions to ambition, flattery, dishonesty and manipulation. As such, Raito's usual way of countering this is by feigning naivety, since it's the easiest and less offensive route. The second stage then follows, where Ryuuzaki begins to make implications about how his own abilities – and consequently, Raito's abilities – are an impressive match to Kira's. That is the point when the assault cannot be ignored.

"What are you trying to say, Ryuuzaki?" Raito did not bother to suppress the slightly frustrated tone of his voice. Ryuuzaki was probably doing this because he wanted to vent his annoyance, not because of any serious reason, Raito thought while trying to calm down. But even so, he could not stop the irritation from growing – when had he gotten so easy to anger? "Accusing me of being Kira, again?"

"Not once did I mention Kira in the last few minutes, Yagami-kun." The detective said, as he shoved the biscuit in his mouth, chewing rather rudely and spraying the air with crumbs, right in Raito's face.

Not that Raito hadn't seen that coming. But what was the point of trying to stick up for himself, anyway? It was indicated clearly by Ryuuzaki's sudden use of his surname that Ryuuzaki was being grumpy, and an obstinate diabetic to boot.

"I'm not Kira, Ryuuzaki." Raito recited the familiar mantra. He couldn't wait until he proved his innocence and shoved it in this detective's face. The glory of that day! He'd see Ryuuzaki's annoying black pupils constrict in defeat when he'd realize he'd misjudged Raito all along. "How many times do you want me to say it? I'm. Not. Kira."

Since Raito had gotten rather frustrated, teeth bared and eyes glowering at his hunched nemesis, Ryuuzaki obviously saw it fit to defuse the tension. Third stage of the game.

"Please do not misunderstand my intentions, Raito-kun" Ryuuzaki said with the usual toneless voice. His pale face looked significantly more amiable than it had in the beginning of the conversation. Raito realized, disgustedly, that his little display of annoyance had probably raised his chances of being Kira another 1.2 per cent, which was why Ryuuzaki appeared to be cheering up.

Jesus, this wasn't about Raito being Kira at all. This was about Ryuuzaki, wanting to be right. At this rate, they'd just be going around in circles of mind-games until Ryuuzaki could prove that Raito was Kira – which he wasn't. Only then would Ryuuzaki be content, and under no other circumstances. He _wanted_ Raito to be Kira.

"I also wish that Raito-kun is not Kira."

Back to first stage, then.

_-_

"AAAHHHH!!!"

At first, he was startled to hear his own voice. When he'd started screaming, he hadn't really expected any voice to come out. His throat felt scratchy, hoarse and terrible, and his lungs were in pain. The only thing that kept him trying to breathe was his effervescent and constantly growing hatred. Hatred for the one who'd dared to reduce him to this mess.

But he didn't have much time to ponder all this, seeing as he was lying down on what looked like a wooden floor. By now, he didn't know if he should be glad that the hands hadn't appeared or not. Sure, on the one hand the never-ending cycle of torture had ended. But, in retrospect, faced with the completely unfamiliar surroundings and knowing the kinds of evils that were awaiting him in this place – wherever it was – the whole repetition of torture had given him a sense of security. At least when perched on the building, he knew what would eventually happen. Now, thrown in a different space, who knows what kind of new torture device was in store for him?

Not that he could actually see where he was. It felt as though he were lying prostrate on rough floorboards…but you could never be sure, where you were in this place…The last concrete thing he could remember was that he was spiraling toward the ground, trying to discern…

Yes, that's right! He'd seen, hadn't he?! He'd seen Ryuuzaki up there for sure. And then, he distinctly remembered that the Hands hadn't appeared in their allotted time. Instead of the Hands, the ground had turned cavernous black, like an abyss waiting to swallow him whole.

And he had fallen in there, right? In the blackness…he hadn't really been thinking much at the time, focused as he was on discerning Ryuuzaki's figure…but…but still…

"Urgh…" once again, he noticed how strange it felt to finally hear his own voice vibrating through his chest. He shook his head and tried to pull himself upwards on his elbows, lying prostrate as he was. This newfound control over his limbs was a bit overwhelming, and he was living in constant fear of having it taken away again.

Such frantic thoughts gave him all the ammunition he needed to persevere, so he gathered his strength, tried to consolidate his breathing pattern, and heaved upwards. It felt rather strange, he had to admit. Not only because he was finally able to move his own body…Besides that fact, it seemed as though …something was not exactly…

Why was he feeling so strange? Had something horrible happened to him that he didn't want to know about? Why did everything feel so occult? Dread overcame all his thoughts and froze his blood. Opening his eyes, he fought to focus and see what was wrong. No use, the light was blinding him. He'd have to wait it out, at least until his irises were ready to adjust again.

Sighing, and still amazed that he was free to do so, Raito lay back down, trying not to think about why his body felt so unaccustomed to moving. It was probably because he hadn't had the chance to actually move it for a long, long time, he reassured himself.

Instead he busied himself fantasizing about the violent techniques he'd recently witnessed and how they could be applied on Ryuuzaki. The malice he was beginning to feel was overpowering all other sentiments. He renewed all his vows to escape this torture chamber and take revenge. He'd crush Ryuuzaki with his own hands. He'd sink his nails in Ryuuzaki's huge black eyes and squeeze them in. …He'd grab some scissors, cut a batch of his own auburn hair, and then…

It took some time, but it was neither days nor hours this time. A few minutes passed, and then Raito realized he could clearly discern his surroundings. It was a rather non-descript room, he noted, which was very dark and had plaster falling off the dark blue walls. Raito didn't have time to turn around and observe the room better, however, since he was rather preoccupied; this time with the discomfort in his eyes.

His field of vision seemed…different? Not exactly narrower than usual…it was rather as though someone had grabbed his eyelids and was holding them pinned in some strange angle. Raito could see clearly, all right…but his range of vision had been slightly…altered? The same stood for the rest of his face, and especially his legs. It felt as though he'd just undergone plastic surgery, not that he knew what that felt like. He just supposed it would not be a pleasant feeling…

Panic and fear had become permanent residents in his psychological profile these days. Therefore, it was no surprise when they hit him again with new force. What was wrong _this _time – did he even _want _to know? With conscious effort, he tried to drag his hands to his face, and look at his palms. He was half expecting to see a batch of black hair resting in his right palm – since he'd never really been able to see his hand without it recently - but what he actually saw was probably worse.

"Wha-?" he started, and realized that his voice sounded just as uncomfortable, scratchy and overly deep as before. It's just that this time, with a dry sense of terror, he realized _why_.

The hand in front of him wasn't holding any slimy black strands. There was just one problem: it wasn't his hand.

He was too slow to process it at first. Then it all came to him simultaneously. He started trembling, pulling the skin of one palm with the other, trying to see if this was all some bad joke, or if he was simply hallucinating. When he'd wished for the Hands to stop tearing him apart for a new skin, he hadn't meant it literally!

"What the…what the heck is going on…?" he kept muttering, in his extremely unfamiliar, deep voice. He bit his – strangely full – bottom lip in anxiety and tried to remind himself not to speak aloud. _Even the walls have ears in this place_. Besides, it felt very unsettling to hear his own voice, under the circumstances.

Back to the task at hand. By now he had completely forgotten about the state of his surroundings and was only focused on his body. He observed his hands and realized that the fingers were longer and paler than he remembered. By now, he hadn't calmed down enough in order to logically recognize what he was seeing, or else he'd surely have figured it out.

But the only thing he could think of was that these clothes weren't his, and that he wasn't wearing his dirty blue suit anymore. Instead, he could see the pearl whiteness of a loose shirt covering his torso and faded green denim covering his legs.

It took a few moments, naturally. Even when you can recognize something, it is difficult to incorporate it with your own body. Raito felt his – narrower than usual – chest start heaving, gradually, as he began to realize what was happening.. As he raised his hands to his face, he was temporarily startled by how long and white they looked. He buried his fingers in his hair – not fine chestnut silk anymore, but rough and unkempt – and made a fist, plucking out some hairs in the process. As he brought them in front of his eyes for inspection, his worst fears were confirmed. Their colour, obnoxious and stark against the pale skin of his hands, was ebony black. A kind of hair he knew only to well.

"No!" he gasped, and the detached, clinical part of his brain was rather appreciative of the irony: now he could finally make Ryuuzaki say or do whatever he wanted.

_I can't believe you!_

How very typical that Ryuuzaki would do this to him. Just when he'd finally been thinking of how he was going to kill Ryuuzaki with his own hands, Ryuuzaki had gone and made that technically impossible, unless Raito wanted to commit suicide.

"Damn it!" he cursed, and hated the way his voice sounded completely unlike himself, and completely unlike Ryuuzaki as well, because Ryuuzaki never talked with as much emphasis as Raito. The intense voice now sounded utterly foreign. Even though it was obviously produced by Ryuuzaki's vocal chords, it sounded nothing like Ryuuzaki. Whenever speaking in normal Japanese, Ryuuzaki would talk in a very distinctive way – as though he didn't know the function of correct punctuation. Not even Near; only Ryuuzaki could do that aggravating thing, where he'd adhere sentences together and make inappropriate pauses. Therefore, it would be impossible for Raito to fool anyone: he sounded , and probably acted, nothing like Ryuuzaki, despite having the same body.

He balled his fists on his white shirt and started gritting his teeth, hating every minute of it. The thing he hated the most was right in front of him, _right in front of him, unbearably close, _and he could do nothing to harm it! …'Why couldn't the Hands attack me when I had Ryuuzaki's body?' he mentally asked, with cynical tremor.

Soon, he felt an annoyance in his back. Instinctively, it seems, his shoulders hunched forward and his spine bent, making him feel at ease instantly. So Raito's suppositions had been correct. Ryuuzaki had indeed acquired a hump from constantly sitting in horrible posture. Seeing as Raito didn't like the implications of this stance, he straightened his back once again, but the annoyance became so intense that he could not help hunching back. He started cursing in his head, wishing-

"I see you've settled down nicely."

This habit of being caught unawares had been following him for the last few moments of his life. Apparently – and most unfortunately – it extended to the afterlife as well.

"Who are-" he swirled around within seconds. Well at least he intended to. But the lack of coordination in his foreign limbs was a fatal setback to his usually excellent reflexes. His thoughts were filled with thoughts of Ryuuzaki and how he could acquire his revenge. Therefore, he was all the more startled when the new voice sounded.

He turned around before he could think about what he was expecting to see. Only when he came face to face with his own body, the body of Yagami Raito, did he realize that that had not been it.

He floundered for a few moments, trying not to let his emotions show on his face. But this was a seriously difficult task, seeing as he was not yet in full control of Ryuuzaki's apparently twitchy facial muscles. Besides that, he was rather unaccustomed to talking to his own body. Not to mention that he was already having enough trouble seeing the world through another person's vision - in Ryuuzaki-vision, everything seemed more vertically stretched than normal.

"You…I…" the only plausible explanation then presented itself, and Raito latched onto it "Ryuuzaki?" he asked, eyeing the other with what he hoped was suspicion. It would make sense, in Ryuuzaki's obviously sadistic scheme, if they had switched bodies. Obviously, if he was in Ryuuzaki's body, then Ryuuzaki would have to be in his.

"Yes…you'd probably be lucky if I were." The other answered sardonically, and Raito felt taken aback, but took care not to show it. He hoped he was doing a manageable impression of Ryuuzaki's natural expressionless mask. In contrast to his stony exterior, he could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, since he'd noticed that the Yagami Raito impersonator had red, glowing eyes. Raito tried not to let himself flinch at the sight of the hated blue suit, which now carried more than a few unpleasant memories.

"So you're not." He asked, and it was more in the form of a statement than a question. He wasn't in control of this situation, so he was unwilling to be aggressive. In his mind, he was ninety-nine percent sure that this scheme was another one of Ryuuzaki's constructions. He'd wait and see, however, since it was not yet verified that the impersonator was indeed Ryuuzaki.

"Let's not be too hasty" he heard his own voice saying, and had trouble recognizing it, in the way all people can't recognize their own voice when hearing it from an outsider's perspective. "Please have a seat." The Yagami with the glowing red eyes instructed, and pointed to something on the side.

Raito finally had time to peruse the surroundings, noticing that the room was completely empty, save for a relatively large table with two chairs. A single white light bulb was hovering over the tabletop, obviously attached to the ceiling, There were no doors and no windows in this room, and Raito didn't know if he preferred this claustrophobia from falling off a Tokyo building in open air. The atmosphere in here felt just as ominous as it had out there. The only difference was that there was another soul in here with him, and that Raito was now in control of his body – if having _Ryuuzaki's_ body could be treated as collateral damage.

There was one more thing in the room, Raito noted pensively. It was the thing that had been making the repetitive ticking sound this whole time. A double clock, like those used in chess games, was set on the table. Was this some new type of torture style, Raito wondered, as various possible scenarios ran through his head.

Would he be forced to kill himself while in Ryuuzaki's body? _With pleasure_, he almost thought, as a sadistic chill ran through his hunched spine. He felt the black hair on his nape stand on end, and couldn't help the smirk that overcame his – Ryuuzaki – features. He raised his hand and ran it through his now thick ebony hair – their rough texture uncomfortably familiar in his hand.

_Soon, Ryuuzaki._

He thought to himself as he shuffled to sit on a chair.

_I'll kill you very soon._

He watched the Yagami Raito clone shuffle to the chair on the opposite side of the table. Meanwhile, when Raito felt a subtle annoyance, he shuffled around on the chair. He immediately realized what was happening, but he refused to give into it. He would never stoop as low as to put his feet on the chair. Even though Ryuuzaki's body was practically aching with the need to curl the knees up, Raito refused to acquiesce. He'd make Ryuuzaki sit like a normal person, just out of spite.

But now he had more important matters to attend to: there was a red-eyed, obviously sinister version of himself grinning at him from the other side of the table. The steady ticking sound of the clock was becoming amplified by the silence of the room, sounding like an ominous countdown.

Raito had been sure until now that his new opponent was definitely Ryuuzaki in disguise. However, the unadulterated threatening expression that he was faced with could not have possibly been devised by a man as expressionless and unimaginative as Ryuuzaki, Raito cynically thought. Now he didn't know which scenario could be worse: that this man was Ryuuzaki or that he was something…else.

He thought it would be prudent to make the first breach, trying to establish some sort of control gradient of the situation. He wasn't exactly sure what he should be trying to do or if he should be pretending to be the real Ryuuzaki, so he decided to avoid the issue altogether for the time being.

"So where is this place?" he asked, with his novel, thick voice. He saw his own face from the opposite side of the table, red glowing eyes and thin auburn eyebrows, smirking at him mockingly.

"It is a room."

_So this is how it's going to be._ Raito thought, feeling his insides clench. There was a dull ache in the back of his mind as he tried to focus, like a nag on his concentration. Preoccupied as he was, and trying to reflect carefully on a prudent course of action, Raito was entirely unaware of it when he pulled his denim-clad knees upwards and fastened them against his chest. When he realized what he had done, he made a grimace of frustration and lowered his legs again, reviving the nuisance of before.

_Damn it. It's not a joke. I can't think straight, now._

He could see his own face smirking derisively from the other side of the table, and admitted, with more than a little pride, that the expression was truly all it was intended to be. Nevertheless, focusing back to the problem, he decided on a straightforward approach.

"Who are you?" he asked, finally sounding a bit more like L, since it was a short sentence which could be uttered with little variation from person to person.

"I'm Yagami Raito, detective. Who are _you_?"

'_Detective'? First of all, I never__ talk like that. And neither does Ryuuzaki._ Raito thought, narrowing his eyes as a reflex. He noted how practiced the suspicious movement felt on Ryuuzaki's face, and vaguely remembered all those times he'd seen Ryuuzaki's black, fathomless eyes narrowing at him. It was happening again, although in a more twisted way.

He called me 'detective' on purpose…is this a pun that he thinks I'm Ryuuzaki? Or perhaps it's a hint that I'm supposed to act like Ryuuzaki? Unable to reach a decision, Raito decided to promote the game and test his opponent's knowledge.

"Indeed you must be him," He said, feeling strange about talking to himself in the second person, especially when he was aware he was speaking with Ryuuzaki's voice. "Or else you'd never know my true profession."

His own narrow eyes were glinting back at him with feral red derisiveness. Then, his opponent's face contorted in a grimace of amusement and Raito felt vaguely unsettled when the other started laughing, somewhat hysterically.

"Hahahaha! You are indeed extremely amusing! Haha!"

Raito could feel his temper rising. It was only when he was distracted enough to grit his teeth that he realized that he'd unconsciously pulled his knees up again, in his effort to think more clearly. _Oh, for the love of-_

"I wanted to test your reaction." The one with the demonic eyes said, and Raito forgot all thoughts of his posture, for the time being "Indeed you did not disappoint." the clone raised his hand and cracked his knuckles, then ran his palm through soft auburn hair. Raito gritted his teeth harder than before, long white fingers clutching his knees involuntarily. He hoped that none of his infuriated thoughts were showing on his face.

"But seriously, you're very intelligent. You were fast to catch up to the rhythm."

Raito didn't have much to say by means of an answer, since his impersonator's satanic grin was not exactly amiable. It was threatening. The entire atmosphere of this room was threatening. He chose to keep quiet for a few moments, wary of the possible consequences of misbehaving.

"The time has come that we compete, in terms of intelligence." The adversary with his own body suddenly said, and Raito's attention snapped within milliseconds. What was this all about? Competition? Intelligence? Did this guy seriously think he could compete with a man like_ Raito_ in terms of intelligence? The idea was not very welcoming and at the same time extremely tantalizing. If he could defeat this imposter, then-

"The rules of the game go as follows: you are L, the great detective. I am Light Yagami, the primary suspect for being Kira."

Raito's thought patterns were being constantly interrupted by the income of new information. He settled for listening carefully and stifled the urge to ask 'Why should I be L?', realizing that he'd betray himself if he did – not to mention sound extremely juvnile. He was not entirely sure who and what his opponent was, after all…best to keep his cards close. Was this some new torture method, or had he truly escaped hell? Was this 'competition' his final test?

"Your goal is to interrogate me and prove that I am Kira within one hour." Raito's dark, scarlet-eyed clone said, as he pointed at the watch, which was ticking away on the table. "If you win, then you can remain for the next round." The clone perused his nails with what Raito recognized as one of his own personal standard mannerisms. "But if you lose…" he started, and Raito stifled the urge to gulp as he saw his own malicious smile from across the table "…well then I guess you'll see what happens."

Raito didn't need much coercion after that. He was sharp enough to understand a threat when he saw one. He'd thought he'd escaped the nightmare, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. His opponent appeared much more knowledgeable than he, at least on the terms in which the game was working. He'd feel much more confident if he'd been in his own body…

_Is this your game, Ryuuzaki? What bad taste._

Fortunately, though, since he knew himself and his own actions best of all, this test should not be that difficult to pass. He'd act out L's part fairly easily, proving that Yagami Light was Kira within minutes, since he knew all the things that Ryuuzaki had never known.

The only problem was his ignorance about the nature of the 'next round'. In any case, he was being given a chance to fight for himself. This was better than nothing, was it not? Although he had a feeling that he wasn't exactly being offered a choice in the matter… rather being forced into it.

"Fair enough." He agreed, tightening his clutches on his blue-covered knees. " I agree. Let's see whose intelligence is superior." Raito said, and hated the fact that the positions couldn't be reversed, and he couldn't be himself instead of Ryuuzaki. But in any case, this effort should not be difficult for him.

"Very well." Raito's adversary, the devilish clone, said. "Your interrogation time is one hour. Do not forget that. We start…" he pointed at the watch with Raito's body's manicured nails. The analog pointers were just moving to display 'five o'clock'.

_Five o'clock_, Raito thought mirthlessly, _The time we used to wake up every morning._

"…now!"

If it weren't for the terribly ironic reversal of roles and the underlying sense of doom and panic, Raito might have even been enjoying this. It seemed that, from the moment the interrogation began, his self-assured, satanic adversary was not so self-assured, when faced with Raito's superior knowledge.

"Cameras and microphones were installed in all rooms of your house, and your bedroom was under twenty-four hour surveillance for nine days. During that time, various criminals died from heart attacks." Raito was saying, in his best impression of L's mechanical, computerized voice. Truth be told, he was rather proud of his impersonation. If only he could talk with the same aberrant punctuation, then his mimic abilities would leave nothing else to be desired.

"If I was indeed put under surveillance, then it must have been proven that I am not guilty of any crime." the red-eyed clone rebutted, his voice now a complete imitation of Raito's real, sugar-coated, polite manner of speech.

"Do you deny that you carried midnight snacks in your bedroom?" Raito asked, feeling triumph over his opponent. There was no way that he could be defeated in his own game. He knew his own tricks by heart. He smirked imperceptibly, and the movement felt foreign on Ryuuzaki's face.

"No" the other acquiesced.

"You placed the pack of snacks in the only blind spot of the cameras. You had hidden a secret camera in the pack, along with pieces from the Death Note and a pen. You used this equipment to punish criminals during the nine days you were under surveillance."

"You have no proof to support these claims." the other said, but Raito could hear the anthems of victory already playing in his mind.

The struggle continued in that trend, until Raito had positively pulverized his opponent. Briefly, Raito had ended up cursing his own brilliance for hiding his tracks so well. In the end, in order to prove his own guilt, he had practically retold the whole story of how Near and Mello had eventually managed to capture him.

"Near and the SPK then solidly proved that you are indeed Kira." Raito finished his tirade just as the clock started ringing, signifying the end of the session. The relief that Raito felt was of gigantic proportions. It was over! The trial was over! He was free! He shook the black bangs away from his eyes in a few rapid movements. How could Ryuuzaki stand this retched hair?

However, he didn't have much time of rest and recreation. His anxiety was revived full-force when he noticed the lack of fear in his opponent. Not only was the other not peeved, but looked rather exultant instead, red eyes glowing and lips smiling.

"Congratulations." He uttered and stood up slowly. "You have defeated me. You are very intelligent and would make an excellent detective." The cheerful, slightly condescending voice said, and Raito was unsure about whether he should be happy or completely petrified: this flattery was unnatural to say the least.

"Thank you." he said non-committally. After an entire hour of talking incessantly, he had become accustomed to the scratch of Ryuuzaki's voice.

"You shall now pass to the second round." The other stated, and Raito could feel a chill run down his spine by the way his clone was smiling at him. Wouldn't his defeated opponent receive some form of punishment for losing, just as he had implied Raito would? But nothing of the sort seemed to be happening.

Finally, seeing as he felt awkward sitting down while the other was standing, Raito also chose to stand – as much as he could, in this retched body. Lowering his knees from his chest, he stood in the accustomed hunched position – not that he had much choice. Raito's only comfort was the knowledge that Ryuuzaki constantly felt unless he was hunched like Quasimodo.

"The second round..." Raito repeated, as though waiting for some explanation. But the other was reluctant to elaborate, apparently.

"Yes, the second round." He repeated, and Raito was drawn to the red eyes, which seemed to be grinning with a murderous intent of their own. Silence fell all around him, as the other's expression sunk in, and Raito realized that could not possibly hold a fortunate ending for him. Although he didn't know just _how_ bad it was going to be. But there was little doubt in his mind now that this was not the conclusion he had hoped for.

Suddenly, he felt something horrible, like a cold slimy hand, grabbing the back of his black-haired neck. He turned around hoarsely, but before he had time to react, a sharp pain gripped his insides, and he could do nothing more.

"Argh!" he groaned, and fell to his knees on the floor, vaguely registering that his opponent had become a mere shadow on the edge of his vision. After that, the pain on his gut and heart intensified, and he started writhing on the floor, aware of his humiliation in the ears of a rival.

_Liar! You said I won!_ He wanted to shout, but could not find the strength to do so. By now, it felt as though someone was gripping his hair in a steel grip, threatening to tear it out. The whole scenery brought back memories Raito would rather keep buried. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was glad that he was going through this pain while in Ryuuzaki's body. Perhaps Ryuuzaki could feel it too, in a twisted sense.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Raito opened his eyes, dizzy from the onslaught of pain. He gripped his stomach, vaguely registering that his movements felt more natural now, and stumbled to the corner of the room, where he promptly threw up. To his utter disgust, the only thing that was coming out of his stomach and mouth were strings of black hair. Wincing, he tried not to think about it as he pulled the retched things out of his throat. Well, there was still some comfort to be found: at least now he was _allowed_ to throw them up.

He was still coughing when he heard it, sudden and strong.

"Yagami-kun"

The voice of a monster. Product of a nightmare.

He sprung to life like a wild man, forgetting all about the black strings in his mouth. Standing up, he barely registered that he was wearing a blue suit before he turning around.

And it was there. It was there.

The monster.

"_You."_ Raito said, without much ado. There was no time for pleasantries. Right at that moment, he could neither see nor think rationally. He didn't know how or why. The only thing he knew was that, somehow, he had gotten back in his own body and that, somehow, Ryuuzaki was right in front of him, with his black hair glowing blue in the light of the bulb and his pale face cast to shade.

_I'll kill you!_ Was the only thing Raito could think of, reverberating like a séance in his brain. And by all means he would have made his thoughts a reality, if his frantic thoughts hadn't caught one little detail, at the last minute: Ryuuzaki's wide eyes weren't black. They were red. Glowing red.

_What the…_

_Did he finally turn into a demon?_

"Ryu…Ryuuzaki?" he ventured, hating the hesitance in his own voice. Damn this place for making him so unsure and powerless. Of course this was Ryuuzaki – that much was obvious. Now being in control of his own body once again, Raito could see everything even more clearly than before. The person in front of him was definitely Ryuuzaki. Then again, that's what people would have said about him a few moments ago…

But…but the expression…

"Yes, Yagami-kun." His opponent answered him, a grin stretching over his pale face. Ryuuzaki never grinned. Unless he'd caught sight of a big strawberry on a cake, or something.

This was…unnatural.

This couldn't be…

"What are…you…" Raito ventured, feeling his back grow stiff and his expression numb, as he watched the red eyes – wider than before – peruse him in a particularly bloodthirsty way.

"I am your opponent, Yagami-kun." The demon said, for it could only be a demon, and there was no explanation for it, unless Ryuuku was playing tricks again. Or, unless it really was Ryuuzaki, and he had really turned into a demon after Remu had killed him. But…

"This is the second round." Ryuuzaki confidently said, in a manner of speech that suggested he indeed was not Ryuuzaki. And Raito's fingers became clammy at this realization, his eyelids unresponsive. At least with Ryuuzaki, he knew who he was up against – _what_ he was up against

"But let's not rush into things." The demon wasn't even trying to impersonate Ryuuzaki's speaking manner, as he had done with Raito's. His syntax and flow of speech was much too smooth to belong to Ryuuzaki. Then again, this really could be Ryuuzaki, doing it on purpose to confuse Raito. If that was the case, then he was succeeding.

"Please take a seat." Ryuuzaki motioned, and Raito noticed that he was being offered the chair of the 'suspect', not the 'detective'. He was now going to sit on the chair that the demon had occupied before. The tables were being turned, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent it. Suddenly, the age-old reluctance of not wanting to be the suspect attacked Raito once again – what had he been thinking before, when he'd been wishing for this?

Now with new wariness, and a complete understanding of the competition not being a game, Raito slowly sat down. He glared straight at Ryuuzaki, daring him to move. Ryuuzaki's offensive leery grin and red eyes would not go away.

"We shall now see which one of us has superior intelligence. The rules of the game go as follows:" Ryuuzaki repeated the same words he had said before, making Raito all the more aware of their reversed positions. He remembered the easiness with which he had crushed 'Raito' when he was acting as 'L'. What was going to happen now? Could he retain his position just as easily, or was the demon…? He didn't even want to think about it.

"I am L, the great detective and you are Yagami Light, the primary suspect for being Kira." The familiar and yet so unfamiliar face drawled. Ryuuzaki's voice was being abused. Raito still felt the overpowering need to pummel Ryuuzaki, but knew he would not feel satisfied unless he was assured that it would be _Ryuuzaki_ he was killing, not some demon.

"I shall interrogate you and attempt to prove you are Kira within an hour. Your goal is to withstand my accusations and prove you are innocent. If you can persevere, then you will pass to the third round…But if you are defeated…" the glow of red, combined with the strange stance of the body, appeared lethal "then you shall suffer the consequences."

'Suffer the consequences'? That's not what he said before… 

Raito was reluctant to think of what the consequences might be. It's all right. He'd be able to win this battle. After all, L had died before the whole fiasco with Near and Mello had taken place. L would therefore not know the most concrete evidence that he could use against Raito. Logically, Raito would be victorious. It would be hard, but he'd win for sure, in the end.

«Our time starts...» Ryuuzaki pointed at the ticking clock with one white long finger, and Raito noticed that the time read five o'clock again. The dread in his stomach returned, erasing all his previous thoughts of courage. It was as though their previous interrogation session – the one where he'd won – had never happened.

«Now!»

Raito opened his mouth to begin speaking, having already set up a plan in his mind. However, he was taken aback when Ryuuzaki started talking first, with a cool, relatively toneless voice, which could almost pass for the real thing.

"Cameras and microphones were installed in all the rooms in your house, and your bedroom was under twenty-four hour surveillance for nine days. During that time, various criminals died from heart attacks." Ryuuzaki said, and Raito froze. His breathing stilled. His heart must have also stopped, as his nerves became tauter with each of Ryuuzaki's following words.

"Do you deny that you carried midnight snacks to your bedroom?" Ryuuzaki asked him. Raito couldn't speak. The notion suddenly hit him… that…

He was losing precious time. He should just answer Ryuuzaki and be done with it. Perhaps it was a mere coincidence that Ryuuzaki's approach was so similar to what Raito's had been.

"No" Raito answered, feeling numb all over.

"You placed the pack of snacks in the only blind spot of the cameras. You had hidden a secret camera in the pack, along with pieces from the Death Note and a pen. You used this equipment to punish criminals during the nine days you were under surveillance."

Raito felt an alien feeling climb to the back of his throat and sting his eyes, as he realized what was going on. He looked at Ryuuzaki's face and saw the demon's expression: brilliant, glowing eyes the colour of blood were narrowed in mirth. Ryuuzaki's face had broken into an all-out malicious, derisive, deranged smile. The expression was so demented, so utterly _wrong_ on that face; that it left Raito feeling crippled, utterly defeated already.

He finally understood the real rules of the game. The demon obviously knew it too, that Raito had just realized, if his ever-present smile was any indication.

"Well, Yagami-kun?" the grin, full of sharp canines, asked him. And he had nothing to say.

"You cheat! You're unfair! Ryuuzaki had never known - - ah! AHH!!" Raito began his protests, but never managed to finish. The moment he had started speaking, Ryuuzaki's face had become a sickly shade of green and his red eyes had started glowing stronger. Raito was paralyzed in fear as he watched his opponent's jaw stretch wider and wider, until it became disjoined from the rest of the head, making Ryuuzaki's face looked like something out of a horror novel. His green-coloured skin, red eyes and cavernous, long jaw were aimed right at Raito, who was trembling wildly by now. The suspect found, to his chagrin; that he was not allowed to close his eyes or move his head away. The façade of normalcy which had been prevalent before was dissipating within milliseconds now.

The demon didn't do anything, just stared. His smiles were all gone now and all that was left was the enormous long jaw and the eyes, like a parody balanced on shapely white shoulders.

Ryuuzaki stayed the same way for the entire session after that.

Fifty seven minutes later, Raito still had nothing to say, as the demon pulverized him, using his own words.

"Near and the SPK then solidly proved that you are indeed Kira." The demon concluded, in the same exact words Raito had used before. At that moment, Raito, with his head bent down and eyes staring at the edge of the table, heard the ring of the small clock. It sounded like the bells of a funeral.

«Well, Raito-kun.» the demon started, and Raito involuntarily looked up at the sudden use of his first name, immediately regretting it when he came face to face with the horrible sight. But when he tried to move again, as though bewitched, his eyes refused to obey him.

«It seems I am more intelligent than you, now.» the devil spoke, and as he talked the enormous jaw moved as well, making Raito's heart beat in unrestricted terror.

«So now you must suffer the consequences for your lack of intelligence.»

«No! Wait, I-» Raito started, but the moment he opened his mouth, to his absolute horror, he watched Ryuuzaki undergo a new metamorphosis – the red eyes became hollow black holes now, and the jaw stretched to form a black scream. Raito, strangely detached, realized with mild interest that his body had entered nervous paralysis.

«Suffer now...» the voice of the demon sounded, impossibly amplified in the small room. The rhythmic ticking of the clock had started to permeate Raito's thoughts. He turned to look at it, hoarsely, and saw the pointers moving counter-clockwise, heading back to 'five o'clock'.

That was all Raito managed to take note of before he felt something heavy grip his shoulders. For a moment, he thought that the demon would devour him and crush his head in the wide jaws. But what he felt instead was something heavy, like lead, bear down on him, immobilizing his limbs.

The effort to shout was fruitless, as he soon realized that his vocal chords were frozen. In fact, everything was frozen on his suit-covered body. He had lost control of everything once more. He was just dropped there – wherever 'there' was – eyes shut and unable to open, lungs struggling to breathe, screams trying to escape.

Why?

Why? 

_If not Ryuuzaki, then who?_

Fighting it. Fighting it with all his strength. For days and nights, it felt like he was dying and living again, dying and living. Fighting it still. Then, finally, a high-pitched sound, like a piercing shriek sounded all around him, and he felt a gust of air shoot painfully into his lungs, as though he were a corpse which was being reanimated.

And then his fingers, moving without his own volition, formed a clutch. He had grabbed something, but he knew it wasn't the ground. His heart was beating fast again. The panic was starting. He was dying.

He was dying.

He opened his eyes.

_Toukyo._

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**a/n: Ouch. Imagine being in ****his shoes. That's really gotta hurt!!! I hope everyone liked my Ryuuzaki and Raito interactions (not that there are any other characters around at this point, but anyway...)**

**Do you enjoy reading this? Please tell me what you think! I'm all ears – your comments really help!**


	5. Jigoku Daiarekuchiku

**Hey everyone! I'm bringing you the latest addition! I'm so happy that this story has a good amount of hits (maybe not that many reviews, but I'm still super happy) – that is what makes want to continue writing (along with my yaoi obsession).**

**For yaoi fans: don't be impatient, guys! I promised you some nice, satisfying boyxboy and you're going to have it. I'll just keep torturing Raito-kun for a few more chapters, and then the rrrrrromance will begin. I'm just trying to make the plot flow naturally. Well, as naturally as it can, under the circumstances.**

**Also, remember! This horror stuff may seem pointless at first glance, but it DOES have a purpose. In the end of the story, hopefully, everyone will be able to understand the themes I'm working on!**

**Yo! On with the chapter!**

**(As usual, please excuse linguistic errors until I revise and edit the text!)**

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**Hell Dialectic **

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"_Yagami-kun"_

The hands grab him. They rip him apart. So he begs and begs, litanies of pleas, and they are not surprised, which is perhaps the worst humiliation.

But it's not Ryuuzaki. Not another human doing this to him, and this thought is not half as comforting as Raito had believed it would be.

Toukyo 

He'd thought the hands would never get him again. He'd thought he'd end up back in the interrogation room, wearing Ryuuzaki's body, facing a cold blooded, red-eyed demon who looks like himself.

No such luck.

-

"Sayu-chaaan! Don't wander too far off, now!"

The squeals of more than two-dozen children echoed around the playground as Mrs Yagami and her longtime friend, Shimizu Reiko-san, watched the members of the future generation run, jump, skip, dance, yell or otherwise interact with each other on the spring lawn.

"Souiji-kun, than stands for you too!" Reiko-san shouted at her son, who was currently running along with Sayu and a few others in the direction of the monkey bars.

"Oh just look at them." Mrs Yagami heard her friend's somewhat wistful tone come from the left "It seems like it was only yesterday when they were still in diapers, toddling around and calling 'ma-ma'…" and with these words, Reiko-san broke into a fit of giggling.

Mrs Yagami joined in the lighthearted mood with a nostalgic chuckle of her own "Yes, you're right…I can hardly believe that next year Sayu's going to elementary…soon, her homework will start taking too much of her time…" an untold ominous statement hung in the atmosphere, and Reiko-san instinctively understood. After all, she had also gone through this with her older sons. It was always hard for a parent to accept it when they'd start spreading their wings.

The worried calls of other parents to their children soon drowned out the oppressive thoughts, however. Reiko-san shook her dark hair away from her face and rocked the pram. The baby, her youngest and fourth child – finally a girl! – made a few small noises but still didn't wake up: the spring noon climate was much too warm and inviting for a nice doze. The resting baby was perhaps the wisest of them all.

"It's the same with Souji, now" Reiko-san slowly said, savouring the smell and pink snow falling from the surrounding cherry trees "since he entered elementary two years ago, it's been crazy. He needs help with his lessons…Naoto and I are seriously thinking of hiring a tutor." The woman decisively said, absently staring at her baby as she walked. Mrs Yagami turned to observe her serious friend, somewhat surprised at Reiko's next words. "It's not that he's not clever enough…it's just…he has a short attention span. He needs to learn how to focus…you know? And he must learn that from an early age…"

"You think so?" Mrs Yagami wondered aloud, knowing that keeping an indifferent stance was probably the most diplomatic course of action when giving advice.

"Oh, but what am I saying!" Reiko-san suddenly exclaimed, louder and more cheerfully than before, but Mrs Yagami could see the pensiveness of before still shadowing her friend's features "Your husband and you have probably never faced this problem, what with having a son like Raito-kun, and all…" and she pointedly turned to look at a nearby bench, where an auburn haired boy was sitting with a thick book in his lap, apparently absorbed in reading about physics. The bench he was sitting on was near to where Sayu was horsing around – he was always prepared to rescue his little sister in case of danger. Indeed the picture of the perfect son. Reiko-san had tried not to be jealous, as had most of Mrs Yagami's friends.

"Oh..." Mrs Yagami faintly blushed, a reserved woman who would probably never become fully accustomed to compliments – even when they were true – "…that's not true, Reiko-san…we, um…have had our problems with Raito too…" Mrs Yagami's face still had a faint tinge of pink at the cheeks as she struggled for a way to return her friend's compliment. She absent-mindedly looked at Raito's reading form, and remembered quite well that Raito's academic prowess had always been a status quo in their house. Reiko-san was telling the truth.

"Oh but of course he is absolutely special…" Reiko-san continued her praising, sounding slightly strained "He's the top-ranking student in his class, successful in every task he takes on, good-looking boy…he's also very apt in his athletics, correct? Yagami-san was telling us just the other day about-"

"Yes," Mrs Yagami filled in, remembering the conversation her husband had had with Reiko "He's going to compete in the National Tennis tournament this year! We're hoping for the best, and his coach says that he is good enough, so…" when no response came from her suddenly quiet friend, Mrs Yagami realized that she should perhaps try to cheer the other up by returning her praises.

"I'm sure it's as you said:" Mrs Yagami finally stated, pulling her eyes away from her son and gazing at the landscape instead "Souiji-kun is just as smart – he just needs to be urged toward the right direction, right? And lets not forget Ken'ichi, your eldest son, who's now a neurobiologist in Osaka! His achievements are the most impressive out of all of us!"

"That's true, isn't it…his position is quite important…" Reiko-san said, unable to contain her pleasure at having her family praised in return. Having her small sentiments of envy newly subdued, she continued her comments about Raito, now in a more honest sentiment "But I'm quite serious. Raito-kun is one of those exceptional children…I'm sure he'll end up entering an escalator high-school. Before we know it, we'll see him in Todai!"

"Thank you very much, Reiko-san," Mrs Yagami said, also feeling overwhelmed with pride. She did get these compliments about Raito often, but she always tried to keep her feet on the ground, nonetheless "I hope your right! He has said all along that he wants to follow his father's footsteps and become an investigator. He has a keen sense of justice, you know."

They gazed at him again, immaculately groomed in his black-and-grey middle school uniform. They were only jarred back to reality when he turned a page from his book, thus breaking their absent staring.

"The good thing about him is that he's not only focused in academics" Reiko-san continued and Mrs Yagami nodded her head in agreement "but is also capable in anything he undertakes. This is the kind of person good universities are looking for, in the new generation: not only a good student but an all around _successful_ person. They want real leaders, and you know not everyone can be that." Reiko-san said, with the tone of someone experienced in the matter. Judging from her older sons' prior involvement with the graduating process, Mrs Yagami trusted her friend's advice.

"Raito-kun seems like such an overall 'perfect person'…" Reiko-san said, nodding. "Of course, no one is without flaws, but I guess Raito-kun has fewer than most, right?"

"I hope so, first and foremost for his sake, Reiko-san" Mrs Yagami said, and smiled affectionately as she stared back at her son. He'd closed the book by now and stood up from the bench, apparently offering his seat to a limping old lady who needed it much more than he. Mrs Yagami tried not to let herself internally explode with pride.

The baby in the carriage was starting to wake up and Reiko-san made a small disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. Mrs Yagami remembered vividly enough how gratifying – and at the same time _extremely _troublesome – it was to have a baby in the house. Two times had been quite enough for her, thank you very much, let alone four! She admired Reiko-san for still having the will to begin raising a child at this age! But then again, if the baby came, you couldn't just throw it away without good reason, could you?

"Where is Yagami-san?" Reiko-san asked all of a sudden, with renewed interest in the conversation "Souji, don't hurt yourself!" she then hurriedly shouted in the direction of the playing children, having noticed their games becoming too heated.

"Oh, he's in another investigation, working overtime." Mrs Yagami said. Contrary to what most of them thought, she knew what Reiko-san and the others were gossiping behind her back: they were saying that her husband's long absences were due to something other that police investigations. Well, not so much Reiko-san as the other women in the neighbourhood were saying these things.

But Mrs Yagami was a practical and discreet woman. She was much too devoted to her home and the healthy raising of her children to terribly occupy herself with these matters. "It's all right, though! I've become used to it."

Besides, she was more than willing to trust her husband. Since their offspring, Raito-kun, had proved to be, like his father before him, an honest, upright, gentle and considerate man, she doubted her husband could be any different.

-

Raito's primary and most developed characteristic, contrary to what people believed, was not his intelligence. The source of his genius was his analyzing speed. Raito-kun, albeit reluctant to admit it, was probably not as smart as Albert Einstein. However, even though Raito couldn't solve problems as difficult as Albert's, he could solve slightly less complex problems with extravagant speed. He was the kind of man who could draw vital conclusions swiftly and efficiently from pre-existing information; not the kind of man who could create the information on the first place.

This was also reflected by the fact that, when presented with any random situation, Raito's brain would always instinctively attempt to analyze it with great swiftness, in order to assimilate it as soon as possible. In other words, Raito always tried to be in control, didn't like surprises and didn't like ignorance. His life was a constant effort to be one step ahead from other people.

In other words, without realizing it, Raito had the ideal brain for a crook.

It was no surprise for him, therefore, that the situation in which he currently found himself was the complete anti-ideal environment for him. He was neither in control nor knowledgeable, he was always caught unawares and he had no way of counterattacking. The only thing he could achieve was to draw conclusions very slowly through the process of trial and error. This wouldn't have been as much of a problem if the process of trial and error did not involve repeatedly getting his guts ripped out and splattered in front of his eyes.

As such, after his swift – and entirely inconclusive – interrogation session with that demon, Raito had realized that his initial assumptions had been correct: there was a purpose to this torture. It was a 'competition', as the demon had said. But not necessarily a fair competition, since Raito's sanity was also being put to the test, along with his intelligence. Seeing yourself dying and living all over again was a bit of a traumatic experience, even for a man with supreme intelligence.

So be it, then. The game was on, Raito decided. If he had to beat that demon in order to escape this hellish torture, then he had absolutely no qualms. There was only one small problem: he'd have to figure out how this system worked, and he had to do it fast, before the strain of being killed over and over destroyed his psychological stamina.

At first, when Raito had fallen to the Hands after the interrogation, he thought he was being punished for failing the competition. He'd assumed that he'd be thrown in the hands only once and then he'd be returned for another interrogation. Nope.

It took another three times of being ripped apart and eaten by the hands until Raito had managed to catch a glimpse of Ryuuzaki in the mirror – the mirror created by the ground. The moment he'd managed to clearly discern Ryuuzaki's figure standing on the top of the building, he'd been returned to the interrogation room.

There, he'd failed the interrogation once again, despite his valiant efforts. After that, he was tossed back to the hands.

Afterwards, as he lay there, trying to breathe and to revitalize his eyelids, Raito began analyzing the facts. He couldn't yet feel the batch of black hair in his hand, but he knew he was holding it.

First fact. There is a long torture sequence, in which Raito hears Ryuuzaki calling him, but cannot see him. Then, Raito falls from the building and is grabbed by thousands of hands, which kill him. Raito has accidentally discovered that there is a way to escape this torture: if he can catch a clear glimpse of Ryuuzaki in the few seconds that the ground becomes a mirror, then the hands do not appear.

Second fact. After escaping the torture of the hands, Raito is taken to an interrogation room and transformed – at least physically – into Ryuuzaki. Then, he must face a long interview with a demon, taking turns at being the suspect and the detective. He doesn't know how many 'rounds' this interrogation has. What he does know is that every round is harder than the one before, since the demon becomes smarter and more flexible with each turn, according to what Raito reveals to him. Therefore, seeing as the undeniable truth is that Raito is Kira – which is supported by all the facts – it is mathematically impossible for the 'suspect' to win this interrogation. It is inevitable that the proof, no matter how well Raito tries to procrastinate revealing it, will always lie in the 'detective's' favour. As such, Raito is fighting at a disadvantage from the beginning.

These two facts, after they were carefully analyzed in Raito's brain, could only conclude to one thing: this torture mechanism was an elaborate system, where no event was unplanned or coincidental. All elements were integral parts of a greater scheme. It had first hit him when he'd heard the demon say the word 'rounds'. Then, Raito began to reevaluate the situation. It was as though this mechanism functioned in levels: the first level, the more crude one, was where he was tossed off the building and killed gruesomely by the hands. The second level was the interrogation. If you fail in the second level, you fall one level down. The ultimate punishment – the promise of unbearable pain – always lurks in the back of your mind. Raito would have to master this unbeatable interrogation as quickly as possible, in order to put more distance between himself and the Hands.

There was just one problem: _he didn't know how many rounds the interrogation had._ Therefore, he couldn't estimate how much proof he could reveal at the initial levels.

"_Aaaaaahh!"_

"_AHHH- Ahhh!!!!"_

He screams and screams in his brain, but the only thing that his throat can do is choke on black.His thoughts always pause when the time comes. Unfortunately, he didn't manage to catch a glimpse of Ryuuzaki in the mirror this time.

The hands eat him.

The next time he is lying down, labouring to breathe, he starts thinking about his predicament once more. The last time, he'd made it to interrogation round three: back to playing the role of the detective. Apparently, the interrogation would progress in stages: in the first round Raito would act as the detective, in the second round he would act as the suspect. In the third, he would again be in L's body, as the detective. Raito could only assume that, in the fourth round, he'd play the role of the suspect again. As such, in all odd rounds he would act as the detective and in all even rounds he'd be himself.

It had been proved before that the demon was not all-knowing. At least not in the first rounds. The demon, Raito had realized, would learn things based on what Raito would reveal. It was Raito's choices – Raito's game. Therefore, Raito had to take care not to bring too many things to the surface in the first few rounds of the interrogation, or the demon might become too knowledgeable too fast, and Raito would be defeated.

Theoretically, if Raito mentally slaved over the issue, he could find some way – a perfect interrogation scenario – where he'd manage to defeat the demon. However, there was this core, vital problem: Raito _didn't know how many rounds there were._ If, in the final round of the interrogation, Raito could act as Ryuuzaki, then he would undoubtedly win, since all the facts would serve as proof to the suspect's guilt. But the statistical probability that Raito could be victorious as the suspect was extremely meager. In order to win, Raito would eventually have to reveal and employ every single bit of information about the Kira case. And if he did that, then the suspect would automatically be judged guilty.

It was therefore a question more of survival than anything else: in all the rounds that he was playing the detective, he was in an advantage and all proof could be used in his favour. The odd rounds, where he played in L's body, were the rounds he could win easily. However, in order to reach the next odd round, he'd have to survive a corresponding even round, where he'd have to act as the suspect and come clean! In other words, the odd rounds were the rounds of victory and the even ones were those of survival. He had to take care, in the initial stages, not to become overly eager and produce much information, or else he'd have a problem dispelling it in the even rounds!

In the end, it all depended on Raito's words. Everything was based on what he would present as evidence and what he would hide. The demon, like a computer, would absorb all the information like a sponge, and later use it to make logical inquiries. All Raito had to do was predict-

"Yagami-kun" 

This time, he strains with all his might to discern Ryuuzaki's figure in the mirrors. The larger part of his brain tries not to process what will happen if he fails. He knows he hasn't found a perfect interrogation strategy yet, but, as his mother always said, 'practice makes perfect'. He'd have to repeat the interrogation procedure and gather much more information if he even wanted a chance at winning! In the meantime, he had to escape the corporal punishment. If only he could train himself to spot Ryuuzaki every time he fell!

He groans and narrows his eyes, fighting to see better. Ironically, his flawless twenty-twenty vision is not much help, under the circumstances.

_One, two, three…_

He mentally counts. And by the time he reaches 'three', the ground turns into mirror – as he had calculated – and Raito struggles to discern the small, shadowy silhouette.

_Just…a…little more….!_

Time freezes.

_Yes!_

Indeed he manages to see it – the sparkling outline of white fabric against the sun. He sees Ryuuzaki with his own eyes, and as such shall be temporarily spared from punishment.

…_yes_

_  
_…he thinks, and hates.

When he wakes up in Ryuuzaki's body, he feels it's too early. As though he hasn't rested at all and hasn't replenished any brain cells. Suddenly, the anxiety grips him: it's much too soon. He's not properly prepared for this. He's going to fail, and be thrown to the hands again! He's analyzed before the reasons why he's hopeless: he can't win! It's impossible! Impossible! And then he'll be thrown to the hands again!

No…no, he has to calm down, or this is never going to work. He'll manage to escape the hands again, now that he knows that all he has to do is see Ryuuzaki in the mirrors. He'll make it. He has to.

But the demon is not kind. He doesn't spare even a few moments for rest and refocus. The moment Raito lifts his stiff back from the ground, the devil grasps his opportunity. He greets, in his eerily familiar, sugarcoated voice and his red eyes are glowing. But Raito is not fooled – never again.

"I've been expecting you. It took you long enough." The _thing_ sardonically says.

There are hundreds of comments that Raito simultaneously tries to bite back. Most of them are derisive, ironic, mocking statements. He has discovered that when he…deviates from the demon's plans, the demon tends to become a bit less…agreeable. A chill runs through his spine as he remembers, and he can feel his thighs - Ryuuzaki's long thighs- shiver. Unconsciously, he bites his lower lip in the effort not to speak until he is told. He is surprised by the fact that his lip is fuller and warmer than he is accustomed to. Absently, he raises his hand to run a finger over his mouth – Ryuuzaki's mouth, he reminds himself. It takes a few moments for him to realize that he's involuntarily indulging in another of Ryuuzaki's favourite mannerisms. Raito immediately lowers his fingers, as though burnt.

"Well then, should we settle down, detective?" the demon says, without preamble. Raito agrees, feeling as though someone has dropped a rock in his stomach and tied his larynx in a knot. As always in Ryuuzaki's body, he can neither breathe nor see properly. Not to mention the constant discomfort: Raito has found that Ryuuzaki was not lying when he'd said that it was bothersome for him to sit and walk like normal sociable humans.

When Raito finally takes a seat on the cold wooden chair, now automatically letting his knees curl up to his chest, the demon begins his announcement of the initiation of the competition. As always, he proclaims the rules first.

"The time has come that we compete in terms of intelligence. You are the L, the great detective and I am Yagami Raito, the primary suspect for…"

As the rival speaks, Raito sharpens his senses. He can neither think nor focus on anything else than the upcoming match. This is a test of intelligence, as the demon has said. He must win this, and hope that, in the last round, he'll be able to act as the detective and not the suspect.

_Fat chance, _his subconscious, that faithfully honest friend, likes to remind him.

"Your time begins"

Were he not under so much stress, the announcement would have amused Raito, since it was so reminiscent of television game shows.

"Now!"

At first, Raito tried to be prudent. He didn't want to expose too much information on the first round. However, at the same time, in order to progress to the next round, he would have to provide some evidence and make a definite, proof-based accusation that the other was Kira. As Raito asked the questions and created the skeleton of the interrogation, using Ryuuzaki's annoyingly puckered mouth, he was aware that in the second round, as Raito, he would be forced to find ways to rebut the accusations he was now making.

He decided on procrastination, amongst other things.

"And what were you doing the day the twelve FBI agents were murdered? Do you have an alibi for their time of death?"

"Of course. I was in cram school."

Raito was making fruitless queries, he knew. But it was part of his experimental strategy: beat around the bush for the first fifty-five minutes, and then prove that the other was Kira within the last five minutes. In this way, the detective's final condemning argument –expressed in the last five minutes –would be rather flimsy, but enough to judge the suspect guilty. This would be convenient, because, in the second round, acting as the suspect, Raito would be able to dispel the argument without much effort and prove his innocence.

This was a tact Raito had used the last time, and it had worked. Luckily, each interrogation was an individual, self-contained process: the demon never seemed to remember the things said in previous sessions. Every time, Raito had a fresh chance.

"Are there witnesses who can verify that?"

"I'm not certain."

Raito had noticed that the demon was apparently not entirely oblivious about the case, or else he wouldn't know these basic concepts they were referring to. Raito knew that the demon of course had no alibi for the time in question, since he clearly remembered following Raye Penber to the underground train. However, he didn't want to present this information yet, lest it be used against him in the second round.

"The FBI agent who was killed first of all was Raye Penber. Apparently, he was the one assigned to tailing you, Yagami-kun." It felt strange to say his own name in the second person, and even stranger to see his own face staring back at him, but uncoordinated to his movements, unlike that of a mirror.

"Your point is?" the demon asked.

"Why would the one who was following a seemingly random suspect die before all others?" Raito asked, feeling his eyes – Ryuuzaki's trademark black orbs – narrowing on his face with practiced ease. In the back of his mind, somewhere, Raito wondered if the body he was using now was the same body Ryuuzaki had lived in or just a clone. Unexpectedly, the thought made his heart pump slightly faster, and he tried to refocus on the task at hand. Why had he become so distracted by the possibility of sharing something so intimate with a man he hated? It must be his disgust. The very thought of being in the body Ryuuzaki had used was making his stomach flip in displeasure.

"Even so, this is no concrete proof that I am indeed a mass murderer." Were the demon's eyes glowing a little brighter, or was it just Raito's imagination? His temples started throbbing, and he tried to keep his calm. He was having a very ominous feeling about this…

Apparently, his instinct was verified: "Stop stalling, detective." When the face of the adversary began to acquire a subtle green tinge, and the jaw began to grow wider, Raito braced himself. "You're more intelligent than that." Apparently, the demon had caught onto his little game. This monstrous transformation was the worst thing that could happen. Damnit! Raito swallowed, trying to relax and not notice the horrible, untold distortion that was taking place in front of his eyes. He didn't say anything, knowing that anything he tried to do would probably only make the situation worse.

"I'm coming to that." He said, keeping the tremble out of his voice, and felt his long fingers latch onto his knees tightly. Flashes of seeing Ryuuzaki do the same gesture overwhelmed him for a few seconds, and then he was focused again. "For the time being I am just pointing out that Penber was involved in a bus accident a few days before his death, where Yagami-kun was also present. In that bus accident, due to extreme circumstances, Penber was forced to reveal his FBI identity."

"Indeed" the demon, green and wide-jawed. countered "I was quite glad that an FBI agent appeared in the bus all of a sudden. A thug had suddenly hijacked the bus, and I was worried I'd have to face him all by myself. What is your point?" the demon asked, with eyes glowing a bit more, as a subtle warning not to be evasive again.

Raito surreptitiously checked the ticking clock. Ten minutes to six. He'd almost done it. He'd procrastinated enough, but, in the end, failed to fulfill his plans. He'd have to disclose more information earlier than planned. He admonished himself, knowing that, under the circumstances, even one small mistake could mean his punishment.

"It was known, at the time, that Kira requires the victim's name and facial representation in order to kill, with his mysterious way" Raito started, and heard Ryuuzaki's voice come out as he spoke, felt the black hair covering his eyes. Ryuuzki's real presence was always there – it wouldn't leave Raito alone. Not in life and not in death. Why couldn't it be Near? Why did it have to be…why? "Thus, when Raye Penber revealed his identity on the bus, Yagami-kun, as Kira, would attain all the instruments needed to kill him."

The demons eyes were glowing, but he was grinning with his lethal jaw. This was a bad sign – proof that Raito had disclosed more information than intended.

"If we take into consideration that Kira can manipulate his victim's deaths, then that would explain why it was Penber, the only man Kira had identified – the only man _Yagami-kun _had identified – who retrieved information on all the other agents before he died."

"There is no proof to support these claims" the suspect said, grinning.

"Someone within the people investigated by the FBI agents within the six days between the bus accident and the agents' deaths was indisputably Kira. The fact that Raye Penber was the only agent who revealed his identity to his target verifies the fact that Yagami-kun is Kira. Not to mention the subsequent mysterious disappearance of Penber's fiancée, the competent agent Misora Naomi, who was the only person involved with an FBI agent to disappear."

The clock had started ticking when Raito was still saying 'Naomi', but he didn't stop until he'd finished the sentence. The fact that the demon appeared pleased was never a good sign. Raito realized that this was, probably, not the right approach. If only…well, no matter, 'practice makes perfect'.

"Congratulations, detective." Raito heard the expected praise. "You barely made it, I daresay." Raito winced, involuntarily. "You shall now pass to the second round."

_How many rounds are there?_ Raito was dying to ask, but knew that he'd never get an answer. Besides, he had already doubled from the pain in his stomach - he'd never become accustomed to this metamorphosis. Just when he'd been getting used to Ryuuzaki's physical status, he became uncoordinated again.

The transformation was never easy and never painless. In any case, though, it was still no match for the pain that the Hands could offer. But the most difficult part was turning his head around, after being turned back to himself, to see the demon's new face.

_Ryuuzaki._

Taller than Raito had remembered, probably because the demon was not hunching. If not for the red eyes, it truly would be the clone image of Raito's teenage nemesis.

Raito usually enjoyed reminding himself that while he had been seventeen years old when becoming Kira, Ryuuzaki had been twenty-five. In other words, Raito had been good enough to fight a fully experienced adult man when he, Raito, was still a teenager.. He grit his teeth and reveled in self-indulgence. He'd always been faster and more adaptable. An image of that photo, the one he'd unexplainably lost, flashed across his memory Time and time again he'd wondered what Ryuuzaki had been like, not only as a child, but as a teenager. What had he looked like, when he'd been winning the tennis trophy in England…? Had he-

Hmph. The same as he'd been the rest of the time, probably: Hunched. Neurotic. Hypoglecemic. Dressed in the same clothes.

Ugly creature.

But now, as the demon used and abused Ryuuzaki's form again and again, Raito realized that, apart from the eyes, some other part of L was missing. Perhaps, Raito thought in one of his ironic moments, it was Ryuuzaki's 'soul_' _that wasn't there. Somehow, even though Raito had always called Ryuuzaki ugly in his thoughts, he hadn't ever believed it until now, when he saw the demon in L's body. It seems as though L's inherent wit and oxymoronic personality had a certain…aura of its own, which the demon could not mimic. Ryuuzaki was…now having actually been in the same body, Raito could…well…

"Time for the second round, Yagami-kun. Are you prepared?"

_Very funny._

Thankfully, having transformed into Ryuuzaki, the demon was no longer green-skinned and his face no longer something out of a horror movie. He appeared human-shaped enough, but Raito knew better.

This couldn't have been Ryuuku's doing, the ex-serial murderer wondered. Ryuuku would have never bothered with all this extravagance. Had he wanted to torture Raito, all he'd have to do would be to show his face.

"The time starts…now!"

The second round, a 'survival' round, as Raito had started to call it, was more difficult than the first. As predicted, it started off pacified enough, and intensified as time passed. The problems started for Raito with the first mention of Raye Penber.

"I shall point out that Penber was involved in a bus accident a few days before his death, where Yagami-kun was also present. In that bus accident, due to extreme circumstances, Penber was forced to reveal his FBI identity." The demon-detective was saying, a carbon copy of the words Raito had said earlier.

And this is where Raito's strategic powers would come to play. If he remembered correctly, the demon had responded to this by making an offhand comment about being glad that Penber – a responsible FBI agent – had been on the bus to save everyone. If Raito responded in the same way, he knew where the conversation would go, and he didn't like the prospect. Instead, he'd have to steer the conversation away from Raye Penber, eventually focusing on some aspect of the Kira case that the demon was not yet aware of. In this way, Raito could win.

"Yes, indeed. At first I was very confused about why he was showing me that FBI identity badge" Raito said, heart thundering, knowing that he was spawning complete nonsense but retaining his best affectation of complete guilelessness "but I had no time to think about this, since the thug suddenly started shooting at thin air! I then realized that this Penber man was planning to attack and immobilize the thug, so I grabbed my girlfriend and ducked out of the way. But before Penber had a chance to do _anything_, that thug was running like mad out of the truck, as though he'd just seen something that scared him _more than anything in the world_!"

Raito kept his eyes wide and hoarse as he was speaking, the image of complete honesty and innocence. He put extreme emphasis on the last sentence, wanting to draw attention to the reasons why the thug would be scared. He conveniently omitted the information about the thug being immediately killed by a car accident after he exited the truck. This little distraction technique was a long shot, but it was Raito's way of procrastinating. Hopefully, it would work.

The demon was smiling again, obviously thinking he'd found a convenient loophole. Belatedly, Raito realized that he had not informed the demon about the bondage of Shinigami to Death Notes. Therefore, the detective would never start suspecting that the thing that scared a thug was a Shinigami. With a sinking heart, Raito realized that the demon would not get sufficiently distracted.

"And what, per se, probed Penber to display his identity to Raito–kun on the first place?" the detective asked, and Raito could feel droplets of sweat slide down the side of his temple. Shit, he hadn't taken the bait! Still, any distraction was better than none at all: anything to keep the discussion of the previous round from repeating itself. Raito would have to act wisely now. He would have to make it seem as though he hadn't been the one to provoke Penber into showing his ID, but the other way around.

"He was sitting behind me on the bus" Raito started "I didn't yet know that I was a Kira suspect, at that time. So when I whispered to my girlfriend, who was sitting next to me, that I'd try to immobilize the thug, Penber suddenly interrupted, showing me his ID, saying that he was an FBI agent and that he'd take care of it!"

The demon didn't show any immediate response. Raito chanced a glance at the clock. All right! Seven minutes left! He had done this before and he could do it again, he thought. He had procrastinated enough to make the demon unable to develop the more basic points of the interrogation. The demon then decided on a new question.

"It was well known at the time that Kira needed the victim's name and face in order to kill them…" the satanic detective started, repeating Raito's words from the first round "Thus, when Raye Penber revealed his identity on the bus, Yagami-kun, as Kira, could attain all the instruments needed to kill him." Useless. Raito couldn't help but think that Ryuuzaki would have caught on and won the battle by now. Ryuuzaki was much better than this devil clown. And since Raito had defeated Ryuuzaki, he could defeat anyone.

"If I am truly Kira" Raito started, trying and failing to keep the slight mockery away from his voice, knowing that it was not wise "then provide proof of an instance where I killed an individual by using their name and identity."

The demon's eyes narrowed, and Raito felt his heart constrict viciously, as though out of his control. He was suddenly reminded of the stakes of the situation, and promptly removed the derisiveness from his eyes.

"That shall not be necessary. It is ascertained by provided facts that, since Penber was the only one of the FBI agents to display his identity to the target, Yagami-kun definitely had these powers and used them to manipulate Raye Penber into acquiring information about all other FBI agents before killing him. Not to mention the mysterious and incriminating disappearance of Penber's fiancée, Misora, who would pose a threat to Kira." the _thing_ in Ryuuzaki's body said, and Raito recognized this as the basic incriminating argument. He looked at the clock. Two minutes to go. This hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped, since they were still focused on Penber. Unfortunately, he'd have to disclose more valuable information in order to survive this round. Even though everything seemed to be lost for him, Raito had an ace up his sleeve. And that ace was the element of surprise.

"That may be so. However, since after this 'incriminating' incident, as you put it, I became the primary suspect, I was put under twenty-four hour surveillance for nine days by L. During these nine days, not once was I witnessed making any incriminating actions such as those you describe. Witnesses can attest to this. Most important of all, even you yourself can attest to this…_detective."_ Raito finished. The demon could not argue on this point, since he knew no more information. Thus, the survival round ended with Raito as the legitimate victor. He congratulated himself: he had gained one more chance. Now, if only he could actually keep this up…

The third round, predictably, was harder than the two before. He had to find a way to prove Raito's guilt using the information that was already set on the table – the one he'd been busy falsifying in the survival second round. The last time he'd been interrogated, he'd lost in this third round, since, in his efforts not to disclose information, he'd been unable to prove Raito's guilt. That had been one of the times where he'd cursed his own talent in hiding his tracks.

The interrogation was more a psychological strain than a mental one, overall. The fact that he was constantly switching goals and positions was not helping. He always had to keep in mind not his current goal, but the goal of the survival round as well. Soon, he discovered the solution: he had to debate the opponent's innocence based on ambiguous matters – matters that could be seen through various aspects.

In the fourth round, the survival round, Raito lost.

He was thrown back to Toukyo, to face the cruel Hands and the pain. But as he lay there, suffering, he knew that he'd found it: the way to win.

The technique was rather simple, really, and he was surprised he hadn't detected it before, in his plight. He didn't know how many rounds it was, but he had to assume they would be enough to put him in torturous and extremely unpleasant position by the time they were over. This was the logic of this place, after all. Raito was willing to wager, based on his biblical knowlege about Hell and its mythology, that he would suffer perhaps six, seven or nine rounds of torture. He could only hope that the last round would be a 'detective' round. But it wasn't really a worry, anymore, since he'd found the way to win. And the way to win went as follows:

First, he would spend the initial two rounds 'bickering'. In other words, plainly debating with the demon, on a less informative level. Raito would provide some information, insignificant on the most part, about the Kira case, but he'd try to keep the interrogation as shallow and philosophical as possible. This was a technique he'd learnt from dearly deceased Ryuuzaki: debate to the extent of incomprehension. If Raito's predictions were correct, by the end of the second round, the demon would have become infuriated enough to take his monstrous form. This would be the queue for Raito to start being serious.

And then the real strategy would begin. In the 'detective' rounds, Raito would debate the already known information. Since Yagami Raito truly _is_ guilty, it was rather easy, for Raito in a detective's point of view, to prove guilt by debating any amount of information available.

In the survival rounds, Raito introduces new information, which will enable him to escape predicaments, like the one in the last interrogation. He'd always try to be as concise and frugal with information as possible, not letting inappropriate phrases escape, such as "he would have died _anyway_' or things like that. To give information about his little tricks – such as the trick with the crisps or the watch – would be absolutely lethal. He'd have to stick to the ambiguous aspects. Luckily, for Raito, the legend of the Death Note was long and complex enough to provide a never-ending source of information. In other words, while he'd keep recycling and debating the same information in the 'detective' rounds, he'd use the survival rounds to retain the element of surprise, thus escaping close calls.

Unfortunately, false information was not available. Raito had tried to lie, of course. But the demon had immediately turned monstrous and ended the interrogation right then and there, calling Raito a 'cheater' and sending him to the Hands for punishment. Therefore, his favourite pastime, lying, was not an option. He'd have to omit aspects of the truth instead of lie. He'd also discovered that, as long as he wasn't using blatant lies, he was allowed to subtly twist or distort the truth, as he had done with the story of Penber in the bus, in order to survive.

By the time Raito could feel his skin stop rotting after being defiled once again, and by the time he could feel the wad of black hair clasped in his hand once more, he'd found the solution. The rough, wet texture of the hair in his hand, strangely, was more comforting than he'd remembered. Whenever he was in Ryuuzaki's body, he generally tried not to touch that hair to much. But now, it was slowly becoming something different – something of a link to that body, to that persona, which he periodically rented and used.

The only thing left to do was discern Ryuuzaki's image in the mirror of the ground. Then, he'd be on his way to victory. Once again, Raito's brain seemingly refused to acknowledge what would take place if he didn't manage to see.

When the bells began to ring and he started falling, with the hair buried deep in his mouth, he remembered that he shouldn't be seeing stars. He should feel focused. The moment should become suspended in time, so that, in the few seconds that the ground would become a mirror…

_There!_

He'd see the truth.

-

"You are L, the great detective and I am…"

L…Why is it always L, anyway? Why is it never 'Deneuve'or the other of the great three detectives? Ryuuzaki impersonates all of them, anyway. It's not like L is even his real name or anything…so why the fixation?

Raito let his mind rescan the policy he had decided on. This was the first round. The jig was just starting. If he'd known this was what he was signing up for when he'd called his life 'boring' all those years ago, he'd prefer that little wife and kids – along with a nice picket fence – any day now.

But as it was, he had to debate a Ryuuzaki-shaped demon. And win. He was morbidly curious to see how his new strategy would pay off.

"I've always believed you were Kira, Raito-kun" and as he said it, taking care to revitalize all his memories of Ryuuzaki's drawling voice, he could feel rather than see the surprise in the demon's red eyes. "From the moment I met you in the university, I've believed you were Kira."

"Why so certain?" the demon caught on and started probing pretty quickly. But Raito would not let himself be taken aback in this setting ever again.

"Well, first of all…" Raito let himself drawl, almost as Ryuuzaki had done. He was procrastinating once again, of course, only he was doing it in a more subtle, distracting way than before. His policy was still the same. Beat around the bush for the most time, then attack at the very end, before too much information can be leaked. So he continued. "I have found Raito-kun's actions suspicious from the very beginning. The first time I concretely started to suspect you was during our first meeting in the café near the university."

"Please explain." The demon said, and he was grinning again, in that awful way of his. But Raito was not swayed. For fuck's sake, he was a man who'd felt his limbs been torn from tissue to tissue. He could not be intimidated by something as simple as this.

And so, the one hour continued, in which Raito talked about his first intensive 'examination' session by Ryuuzaki. He felt rather vaguely confused by the fact that he could remember everything about meeting Ryuuzaki in such vivid detail, but paid it no mind for the time being. He effortlessly recalled and repeated all the accusations and the percentages Ryuuzaki had used to accuse him, back when they'd both still been reluctant to delve into deeper information. Raito was doing the same thing with the demon, presenting him with accusations based on 'Yagami Raito's' personality rather than evidence.

By the time the session finished, Raito was calm and composed. He was assured he'd be facing the fanfare of victory this time.

He was to be sorely disappointed when the demon smiled at him, politely told him he'd tried to cheat and lost, and then sent him out to his doom.

And so Raito had come to know – and, ironically enough, sympathize – with what had been Ryuuzaki's biggest problem in life: when you _know_ – one hundred percent – that someone is Kira, but you _can't _use concrete evidence to prove it. L hadn't had the evidence. Raito couldn't afford to disclose it. How ironic that all this was happening when Raito was in Ryuuzaki's body.

Remembering Ryuuzaki's endeavors in life, Raito relived the moment L had drawn his last breath in Raito's arms, knowing but unable to prove Raito's guilt. At the time, Raito hadn't really understood how Ryuuzaki could be so sure. Now he knew what it was like.

This was when Raito realized that his little plan – at least the first part – would never work. L had proved at least this, in his life and death. Raito Yagami's guilt could simply _not_ be proved via psychological, cerebral or emotional manipulation. Facts would have to be involved, in Raito's – and, formerly, L's – misfortune.

Raito may have been surprised at losing the battle so early. However, he wasn't unprepared for the Hands. This time, he strained to discern Ryuuzaki's figure on the rooftop as soon as he was given the chance. He wasn't sure if he could escape the punishment altogether and return to the interrogation so early. After all, that would defeat the purpose of an inescapable punishment, right?

A flash of denim colour blinded him for an eternal instant, and, before he fell to the darkness, Raito vaguely registered that he had escaped it.

Escaped the Divine punishment unharmed.

What kind of God puts rules in punishment?

…perhaps, then…this wasn't punishment at all.

_Death is equal_

This isn't God. It isn't God who's doing this. As if God would care for me, who's already dead. _After you live, there is nothing left of you in the world. That's what I tried – and failed – to change._

But it's not a human either.

If it's not God and it's not a human, then…

..then…

_Shinigami_

The cruel idea flashed like lightining, with new icy flame, before the pain took over him, and the only thing he could feel was Ryuuzaki's body enveloping his soul, once again.

-

Practice makes perfect. And perfect he would be.

«Back so soon?» the demon had said. Raito had bit back answers, but mostly questions. His new revelations about the nature of his torture would have to remain unanswered, he realized. At least for the time being.

He'd immediately decided on abandoning his fruitness technique of before. The Death Note story was long enough to occupy seven or nine interrogation rounds, if he was very careful. He could make it. In the 'detective' rounds, he'd debate already existing information and prove the suspect's guilt – it should be easy enough. And in the survival rounds, in order not to be condemned, he'd offer a crucial bit of information – information the demon would not know – and stay innocent for a little longer. Knowing his luck, the last round – and most difficult – would be a survival one. He had to be alert.

They started calmly enough. Raito focused, just as he had before, on the basic premise of the Kira case: the murder of the twelve FBI agents and Raye Penber's involvement. Raito was trying to postpone mentioning the Death Note for as long as humanly possible. Actually, every information that would be provided after L's death was potentially dangerous. Raito wished to debate the same ambiguous points of the Kira case for multiple times, knowing that the more facts he offered, the more likely it was for the suspect to be proven indisputably guilty.

In the second round, in order to escape the predicament, he'd had to mention the nine-day twenty-four hour surveillance. Now, in the third round, acting as a buffer, he was trying to redebate the case of Raye Penber and make it seem as though Raito was guitly without once referring to the surveillance period. Indeed, predictably, it worked. Raito proved the suspect guilty without offering any extra information that could be used in the survival round. In this way, he had proved the suspect guilty again by elaborating on the Penber case and had not offered the incriminating aspects of the surveillance period. When the demon had used the surveillance period as a way to prove himself innocent, however, Raito had stressed that the survellance was not twenty-four-seven and that, had Yagami really been Kira, he could have murdered people while not at home.

Raito was feeling more and more stressed as time went by. The demon had become livid in the third round, when he'd realized that Raito was trying to recycle information from before. Raito steeled his – Ryuuzaki's – stomach, and tried to ignore the horrific image, focusing on the difficult task at hand. Now in the fourth round – the survival stage – the demon, trapped in a cycle, had no choice but to repeat the information of before. When Raito tried to prove his innocence by mentioning the surveillance period, the demon rebuffed him in the same way he had rebuffed the demon in the third round. Then, Raito had stressed that, when not at home, he was always either at school, cram school or the tennis field and that witnesses could attest to this. It had been a narrow call, but he'd suceeded.

This wasn't going as well as he'd hoped, but, in a way, Raito had fulfilled his initial plans: he had trapped the interrogation in a loop. He had offered the demon a very ambiguous early instance of the Kira case, without mentioning the Death Note, and started planting the seeds of debate from there on.

It was during the fifth round, where Raito – as the detective – attempted to keep exploiting the situation, that the demon's countenance – Yagami's countenance – gained an appearance more terrifying than any other time. That was when Raito realized that he was out of time. He had to provide more information and move along the interrogation, or he would lose by default, for being a 'cheater'.

«DNA tissues and fibers of clothing were then collected from the envelopes sent to Sakura TV by the second Kira» Raito was saying, as L, the great detective. He then proceeded to outline Yagami Raito's relationship with Amane Misa – the accused second Kira – and whether it implied Yagami's guilt as well.

And this was how he uncovered the more ambiguous information about the simultaneous surfacing of the second Kira and Amane Misa. He combined that with the finer points of the Penber case and proved that the suspect was Kira.

Then, in the survival round, Raito had rushed to dispel these accusations by saying that Raito Yagami was never actually recorded doing something incriminating with Amane, even if she indeed was the second Kira. He then falsified all the information he had previously debated about the Penber case, and proved his innocence. Misora Naomi's name was meticulously avoided, replaced with 'a relative' or 'a fiancee'.

But the demon seemed to become more and more irate with every passing round. He would grin occassionally, but when Raito would rebuff all his efforts, the devil would become more and more pervertedly satanic in form – truly terrifying. At one instance, in the seventh round, the rival not only had an extremely wide jaw, but a head unnaturally swollen, with a protruding forehead and pear-shaped skull. It was disgusting, but Raito remembered the Hands, and persevered. In the seventh round, he had no choice. He had to progress the plot.

The seventh and eighth round were an endless, torturous debate. This was perhaps the easiest point of the plot to debate from different aspects, but, at the same time, the hardest, seeing as the demon had become so swift and flexible. Raito hadn't been wrong. The adversary became more threatening with each passing moment. He could only hope that the struggle was drawing to an end. In the seventh round, Raito, as the detective, rushed to involve all of Misa's meetings with Raito with the meeting of the first and second Kira.

Then, in the eigth round, he had absolutely no choice but to mention the twenty days he was imprisoned by Ryuuzaki, and how it had proved his innocence. This was a very bad situation that he did not want to be in: having now been informed of the imprisonment, the demon would use the information to try and prove himself innocent in the next round. And this time, in order to show the suspect's guilt, Raito would have to offer even more incriminating information. And if he did, then he would be unable to counter the demon's arguments in the survival rounds. Raito was now hanging on a thread of hope, practically praying that the torture would not progress for more than ten rounds.

_With my luck? No way._

Therefore, perhaps the greatest shock came when Raito, still going through a nightmare of pain from being re-transformed into Ryuuzaki for the ninth stage, heard the demon say:

«Congratulations.» and then, with no small amount of reluctance «You have now reached the ninth round.»

At first, Raito felt his elation override all other emotions. But soon, upon seeing the demonic grin he was granted, all excitement and glee died. He became aware of the stakes once more, as the Yagami demon walked to the chair. Absently, Raito had noticed that the demonic countenance suited his own body much more than it did Ryuuzaki's warm, angled bone structure. Or perhaps, he had become more used to it, having seen it in the mirror for many years. He liked to suppose, in his more romantic moments, that what he was fighting was no demon. It was himself. It was Kira. But soon, such thoughts died out, and he'd focus back on the task at hand.

Raito, now made extremely cautious, would take care not to overreact...but why was the demon pacified?

The answer didn't come until the actual interrogation started. _Then_, Raito understood. So the demon would change the rules of the game at the last minute.

«The rules go as follows:» the demon said, and Raito stared at him expecteantly through Ryuuzaki's black eyes «You are L, the great detective and I am Yagami Raito, the primary suspect for being Kira. You have three hours to...»

But Raito wasn't focusing on the rest of the sentence. He looked down at his palms and could see them clammy and glistening with sweat. He was quite sure he'd never seen Ryuuzaki's body under such stress before.

« I'm sorry, perhaps I misunderstood.» Raito stated, and was relieved that they weren't running in investigation time, or else the demon would have become livid for being interrupted. Instead, the angelic grin would not leave the face with the glowing, ravenous red eyes.

«No, you heard correctly, Raito-kun» the demon said, and Raito felt duly disoriented to be addressed 'Raito' when in Ryuuzaki's body, and by a man who looked like the real Raito to boot. «In this round» the demon continued «We continue as we did before, only for a longer period of time.» the devillish trickster concluded, and Raito realized why he'd been grinning before.

It was another survival round, and a twisted one at that. In retrospect, it was obvious that the tables would have turned in this way.

In this round, which, as the demon stressed, would last not one but _three_ entire hours, Raito would use L's body to interrogate. The plot had now reached a stage where he couldn't prove Yagami's guilt without disclosing _extremely _vital information about the nature of the death note. Not only that, but there were more bad news: three hours was too long. He'd be forced to reveal all the information. And if he did, then there was no chance in _hell_ that he could survive another round as a suspect. Not to mention that if he lost now, in the ninth round, then eleven endless hours of fighting and thinking would have gone to complete and utter waste.

And the fact that he was in a stranger's body, unaccustomed and uncomfortable, would be a major setback to his thinkiing clarity as well.

But the demon was not kind. He was getting revenge for all the previous eight rounds by means of psychological pressure. He started the interrogation immediately.

More vicious and bloodthirsty than ever before, he attacked all of Raito's arguments' weak spots with alarming precision, forcing Raito to disclose more and more information to prove Raito's innocence. Raito had realized that, unfortunately but not uncharacteristically, he'd been lulled in a false sense of security and underestimated the opponent. The demon was seemingly now showing his true colours.

He wormed his way through every argument, finding loopholes, finding excuses where Raito had meticulously not offered proof, showing that perhaps he had known about the Kira case all along and had been humouring Raito all this time. That was when Raito realized he hadn't been wary enough. He'd been hasty in his will to survive, arrogant. Overconfident.

The only thing he could focus on now was that under no circunstances should he mention the _finer_ points of the existence of the Death Note, because mentioning the existence itself was inevitable. It wasn't this ninth round that Raito was worried about – he'd win this round for sure. The problem was the _tenth _round. There was no way that he'd be able, as the suspect, to rebuff the arguments he was currently ssaying, as the detective. If the ninth round wasn't the final one, then he was, for lack of better words, royally fucked.

In the tenth round the demon would start revisiting old debates, adding the newfound knowledge, clicking the pieces in place together. Now that he knew of the Death Note, it was a matter of time until he would prove Raito's guilt. Also, the fact that the interrogation lasted such a long time implied that the demon would have all the necessary time to present his arguments.

And Raito was at the point in the story that he could not create ambiguousness by providing more information. From now on, all the information he had was incriminating for the suspect.

He was losing, while winning.

_Oh God! _He was losing again, just when he'd thought he'd win!!

He latched onto his last hope. Ironically, it was Mikami. If he could prove that Mikami was involved in the Kira case – helped by Takada – then he could perhaps stand a chance in the tenth round, since, as the suspect, he would use Mikami to prove that it was not Yagami who Kira was, it was Mikami. But then, on the other hand, if he made it seem in the ninth round that there was some doubt as to Raito being Kira, then he would lose in the ninth round! Damn it!_ Just a little longer!_ He called upon luck, the old devoted mistress which seemed to have abandoned him lately, to give him strength. If there was a God that Killer Raito ever honestly believed in, it would probably be her, right at this moment.

-

«And this proves that Yagami- kun is Kira» he heard his voice – the deep husky tone that he had learned to associate with his voice – tell a grinning demon. «The fact that Mikami knew when and where the meeting place of the SPK and the L investigation team would take place, without having Takada as a contact, is solid prrof of the fact that Yagami is Kira. » He had said almost everything.

Everything except the very end and the most critical, incriminating clues, like the existence of Shinigami. He'd keep that information as a trump card, and, if the situation called for it, in the tenth round he would reveal the existence of shinigami and claim that Yagami was never genuinely guilty, but always manipulated by the evil force of Shinigami.

The demon had echausted him. However, before either of them had the chance to utter another word, the clock erupted, finally. _Finally_.

It took a few moments for Raito to realize that it had stopped its incessant ticking altogether, for the first time in all this time. Raito had been subjected to it for more than eleven hours. If he heard anymore of it he believed would squish it with his own hands, consequences be damned!

He'd had the last word.

Even though it was a weak argument, a frail chance, he'd had the last word. So he waited, mentally and psychologically exhausted, for the verdict.

When it was over, he couldn't even hear the demon's voice saying the usual 'Congratulations'. The nightmare was dragging on in his black-haired head. He was unable to stop himself from dropping his head on the tabletop like solid led. The scratchy voice in his neck had become so familiar by now that it was just like using his own – maybe even more pleasant in its deepness. Raito slowly opened his black eyes and perused his own fingers, long and pale, with nails of mediocre state. Being in another body...it felt...as though there was another human there, fighting with him. Even though he knew, with his logic, that Ryuuzaki was never truly there. Even so, Raito couldn't help but wonder, in his exhausted mental state, what Ryuuzaki would do if he knew what Raito was going though right now.

But the demon was never kind, much less when he was grinning. The pain hit Raito suddenly, and he realized he was transforming once more. He didn't know what having a seizure felt like, but he knew this must be it. It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the desperation of the knowledge that there was another round, that he'd have to fight for even longer, was making the pain even more unbearable.

As he rolled in pain on the ground, he realized that something wet was rolling down his face. Tears. _Tears_ of pain were rolling down his cheeks, as a reflex. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what Ryuuzaki's face would look like on the outside when it was crying. Then the pain became too intense, and, for a few moments , he could not think.

The desperation was gripping his heart. Unwilling to admit it, the idea passed his brain that the tears might not be altogether from the pain. He couldn't win...he just...couldn't. This was all he had. It was over. Now he would lose and be sent back to the torture. He felt so utterly exhausted, so unable to funtion, that he supposed that he wouldn't even have the courage to escape the Hands. And even if he did escape, then what? He'd be forced to start debating all over again.

It was a loop. He couldn't escape.

The demon was smarter, after all.

«Congratulations. You have proved to have perseverance» the demon said, in a tone that said he believed anything but. Nevertheless, he was still grinning, and Raito didn't want to watch his familiar face. He knew what was coming next: his doom.

«You have won this competition.»

For an instant, everything froze. Then, without thinking clearly and usure he had heard correctly, he queried.

«What?» it was a particularly uncultured, crude and unfitting way of speech for him, but it expressed his sentiments quite clearly.

«It's over, Yagami-kun.. The ninth round was the final round.»

«But...but...the tenth round...» Raito sputtered, hating the patethic sight he must make.

«I never said anything about a tenth round.» the devil smirked, looking down with his derisive, red eyes. Now his face had taken Ryuuzaki's soft curves and unkepmt hair. Raito averted his eyes.

«But...you acted like...» he said, one last time.

And then the demon chuckled. He actually _chuckled_ over Raito's head, whilst he; proud, smart Yagami, was sprawled on the floor like a bug. «Oh that, I was just messing with you, human. Haha!» a small pause, then more laughter. Raito grit his teeth but didn't say a word of anger.

«So is it over?» he heard his own voice ask – a combination of Ryuuzaki's and his own voice, seeing as he had not fully transformed yet. The boy-genius had expected some blinding light to appear and envelop him, when it was over, or some metaphysical creature to come and lead him out of the torture champer... or the demon to dissipate...or _anything_ really. He wasn't expecting this...normalcy.

«Enjoy your stay» the devil said and walked away. Raito vaguely registered that the demon had just walked through the wall, exiting the room. Well, at least he was finally left alone and in peace...

But he hadn't expected, suddenly, unexplainably, to feel _sleepy_, of all things.

_"Enjoy your stay"_

What the hell did that mean? Would he be staying here for long?

The room stayed the same, and all he could think, with a desperate sinking of his heart, was that he still wasn't out of it. Instead of a bright light, he could see only the familiar haunting shadows that the table, clock and chairs cast on the black walls.

Then, from within the blackness, he thought he could discern...something familiar...It was human-shaped...

-the profile of a-

..._Misa?_ he almost croaked, but never managed to utter a single syllable.

He barely managed to see the cuffs of his blue suit materialize on his wrists, before he dropped on the floor, unconscious and not at all peaceful.

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**a/n: okaaay... well thank God I made that promise to keep the chapters short (!) But since most of my reviewers don't seem to mind long chappies, I don't feel that bad! I hoped you loved it! Stay tuned, guys, for the next horrificatastic chapter!**

**p.s: the purple button on the lower left is mesmerizing. No, hypnotizing. It is spinning in a vortex of colours. '**_**Press me, press me 'insert nickname''**_**, it's saying...**


	6. Jigoku Moraru

**Hey everyone! I haven't been lazing around all these days. On the contrary, I've been writing frantically! This story is really getting to me – I have all these new ideas.**

**Don't be intimidated by the HUUUUGEness of this chappie – actually, it's two chapters in one. I've put them together in the same post because I believe they should be read together. One completes the other; that kind of thing. Therefore, please enjoy this long post.**

**Because the chapter is so long, there are probably a gazillion errors that I haven't fixed yet. If you see words being repeated in the same sentence, or something wrong with the syntax, then know that it's an error on my part. I'll be proofreading and checking the entire thing soon, so please bear with me until then.**

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**IMPORTANT: There are new warnings for this chapter. But to tell you the exact nature of these warnings would be a complete spoiler to the story. It's safe to say that there will be inexplicit adult situations, some really disturbed stuff. I DON'T RECOMMEND PEOPLE UNDER THE AGE OF CONSENT TO READ THIS. **

**If, despite knowing it might be a spoiler, you want to know the exact nature of these warnings then read the following phrase from right to left. Don't try to read the sentence if you're not interested in spoilers, despite knowing that the chapter shall contain inexplicit adult stuff. **

**PHRASE/ SPOILER: ****tsecni dna epar.**

**Now that it's over with, let's get to the chapter!! I hope everyone enjoys this, and my recommendation to readers is this: wait until you finish the whoooole thing before you write any reviews or make any judgments. That way, you'll understand the whole meaning of the chapter. It may seem pointless at first, but, as you shall see, it actually DOES have a theme. In there…somewhere (!)**

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"Misa!?"

He came back to his senses as suddenly as he had lost them, his sharp voice slicing through the preexisting silence like a knife. Noticing that he was producing his own familiar voice – and not a deeper, scratchier one – Raito was at least reassured by the knowledge that he was in his own body.

Misa's name shot through his mouth unintentionally the moment he came back to his senses, since it had been the last thing he'd wanted to say before he fell unconscious. In fact, he shouted the name even before opening his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his rapidly reigniting mind, he was expecting the familiar whiny mewl to answer his call. Surprised when he heard no response, he struggled to gather his limbs and wake up properly,

'Enjoy your stay' 

So this was probably it. He was still in that closed room, wasn't he? He didn't really want to properly verify it. He'd thought the lengthy interrogation would be the end of his punishment. Obviously, he'd been wrong. And if he was correct in his suspicions, then he would remain locked in this door-less, windowless room for a very, very, _very_ long time. He was not looking forward to the prospect of being possibly accompanied by a demon-Misa, this time. She was bad enough originally.

With a slight groan, Raito shifted his body, since he'd been lying prostrate on the floor and couldn't properly see his surroundings. When he was in a kneeling position, he noticed that the floor beneath him was…different.

Oh no. More surprises.

He was on his feet immediately, hoarse and panting from the sudden strain. Frantically, he looked around, seeing but not truly processing. The environment looked entirely too familiar – so familiar that he was sure it was a hallucination.

On his left he could see his old bed, with the cotton dark blue covers neatly arranged. His old desk and bookcase, along with a small television set, were on his right. The familiar wide window was bringing the blue-grey light of dusk in the room, illuminating the setting enough for Raito to recognize it clearly. There was no mistaking it: this was his room in his parents' house, the one he'd resided in as a schoolboy.

The room where everything had started.

For a few minutes, he didn't really dare move and just stood there, perusing every object. Even his college books were settled in the exact same way he had arranged them. The pencil-cases, rulers and paperweights on his desktop were in pristine condition, just as he'd left them.

The air this room and its objects exhibited was almost nostalgic for him, since he was seeing a familiar place for the first time in who-knows-how-long. He felt so different now as compared to how he remembered himself being in this room…. As though, after being tortured, he could see the world with new eyes. It was incredible…returning to some place and finding it exactly the same as he left it, when he himself had changed so much.

He looked at himself a bit numbly, realizing that he couldn't feel the itchy scratch of the blue suit against his skin. And indeed, when he looked downwards, he saw that he was clad only in his white flannel t-shirt and blue boxers. His nightclothes? What the-?

Had Misa…? But a quick visual rotation of the room signified that neither Misa – nor any other demonic human – was anywhere to be found. Perhaps she had temporarily appeared and then left…? Not seeing anything out of place, but still feeling entirely too aware of the abnormality of the situation, Raito moved toward his desk.

And then he saw it, the detail he'd been looking for. The sign:

He'd never owned a clock like that.

It was set on his short night table, its colour appearing almost black instead of wooden in the light of dusk. Raito couldn't prevent the shiver that ran up his arms at the mere sight of it. Ha. How could he forget it? After having spent eleven hours being interrogated with it, the irritating ticking sound had now become a permanent part of his intrinsic memory.

He approached it gingerly, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. When he was within touching distance, he paused and leaned over to observe it. Trying not to touch it, lest he be hurt in some way, he squinted in the dark to recognize where the arrows where pointing. A knot climbed up his throat and another chill ran through him as he saw that the clock was pointing at a few minutes past five o'clock.

Truth be told, he'd been expecting it. But it still didn't feel any better to see it.

Somebody was telling him, in an indirect way, that he was still being interrogated.

Another game, then? Perhaps this game would be the most dangerous of all. The safety exhibited by the familiarity of the environment would inevitably render him careless and less cautious, making him unprepared for a surprise attack.

He didn't know when the 'attack' would come or what it would be, but the presence of the satanic double clock, with it's neurotic, incessant ticking, was solid proof that this was, in fact, not his safe childhood home. It was part of his torture competition. And that demon – or demon_s_ – had been derisive and sardonic enough to put the cursed clock in full display, as though they _wanted_ Raito to know that he was still being tortured.

Raito believed that their logic – if there was any – didn't make any sense. If they wanted to lull him in a false sense of security by putting him in a familiar environment, then why would they want to show him that he was still under inspection? He scratched the inside of his right forearm absently, feeling incredibly _clean_ and comfortable for the first time in days.

Then, he gingerly sat on the edge of his bed, noticing how well-constructed this hallucination was. It even smelled like his old room. Even the covers of the bed had the familiar feel to them. But seeing as he'd never felt safe, especially in this room – with Ryuuzaki's voyeuristic tendencies and all – Raito wouldn't let his guard down. He was always cautious, even when in a familiar environment, or better yet, _especially_ when in a familiar environment.

Various scenarios began to play through his head as he sat there, each possibility worse than the last. Perhaps they were going to keep him locked in this room, in an attempt to provoke claustrophobia? But if that were the case, then why hadn't they left him in the interrogation room – it was more claustrophobic than the one he was currently in?

Another possibility was that he was all alone in this house, and there weren't any humans around. That would be an attempt to make him despair from loneliness. With a mental snort, he thought that having less people around would be a blessing rather than a curse. His sister's and mother's idle chatter did not directly irritate him – just bored him – but, under the circumstances, he'd prefer it if he weren't surrounded by humans. Each human could be a potential demon.

But he was sure of it: he'd seen Misa before he fell unconscious. Had the demon transformed into Misa, then? Would he be meeting Misa soon?

A plausible scenario was that all his relatives would be turned to demons, and he'd be left alone to deal with them. Raito wasn't looking forward to it, but he was becoming mentally prepared for a horrific possibility like that. Nothing could surprise him anymore. He'd seen the worst of it. If his parents turned to demons in front of his eyes, then he wouldn't feel that upset, since he'd know they were never his real parents to begin with.

And then there was the question of the clock. Was it there just to remind him of his predicament, or did it have some actual meaning? Was it a countdown for something, again? Would the pointers begin ticking anti-clockwise once more?

Truth be told, Raito didn't truly want to take action. He was feeling rather content sitting on the soft bed, where nothing immediately threatening seemed to be taking place. However, he knew that he'd have to discover the exact nature of what was going on in order to escape it. At least, this is what his previous 'experiences' had taught him.

He lost no more time, therefore – who knows what that clock was counting down…? Deciding to test if he was indeed locked in his room or not, he approached the door.

And then he froze.

There was a marionette hanging from the wall nearby. But he was sure it hadn't been there before… In the twilight, its cold, glassy eyes almost seemed to be looking right at Raito. In fact, just as Raito took a step back, startled, the eyes of the doll followed his movement. His heart didn't start beating fast, nor did he start breathing heavily. The only thing that he could feel was chills combing through his bare thighs and arms.

The traditional joker smile, painted with red all over the puppet's face, appeared anything but jovial when combined with the unblinking eyes. But it wasn't all these things that Raito noticed.

It was the yellow, long blonde hair that adorned the marionette's head…and the frilly, gaudy black-and-scarlet dress that it was wearing.

Misa. 

The light blue irises of those eyes, combined with the dull lighting, appeared white and sickly. Raito could only discern the pupils of those eyes, dilated and staring right at him. But the puppet's smile had none of Misa's dogged adoration.

Apparently, he hadn't been as observant as he'd thought. Unless, of course, this new object had spawned in his room during the last few minutes while he'd been awake. This thought, more than any other, made his skin crawl.

A brief thought flashed through his mind; that he should attempt to dislodge the retched thing from the wall. But the idea was immediately rejected. Even in the off chance that he would even be allowed to throw the devil's doll out of the window, he was reluctant to touch it. Perhaps it would…Raito realized, with his logic, that he was thinking nonsense. And yet, he could not gather the courage to even approach it more than necessary, let alone attempt to manhandle it.

'_It's just a stupid doll', _he kept telling himself. But the moving eyes and the persistent, unnatural smile told otherwise. He couldn't shake the feeling that…that if he approached too much…it might come alive.

'_All right, that's it!' _He immediately ceased that infantile trail of thought and turned back to the door. He struggled not to turn around again to check, since he knew Misa's demon-doll was still looking at him.

His first instinct when faced with the particular door, cultivated from many years of conditioning, was to remove the bar of led from the brass hinge.

Naturally, thinking about the hinge made him remember the Death Note.

' Idiot! Why didn't I think of it sooner?! ' 

But he truly doubted that his torturers would give him the benefit of having the Death Note intact in his room. He still hadn't forgotten about his mysteriously missing wallet. If they wanted to take something out of his belongings, they obviously lost no time in preamble.

Even so, Raito was itching with the need to check his special desk drawer. Maybe the Death Note would be there, after all. However, he felt as though the incessant watchful eyes of the marionette would record his every movement. Had he been alive, he'd have thought that the mannequin's irises were cameras. However, considering his hellish situation, he was willing to believe it was more plausible for the puppet to be a...a...demon. Raito, being himself, didn't want to inform anyone about the hiding place of his secret weapon, even if they probably already knew.

Finally, he decided that he would just check the door. If he found the bar of led intact, then that would mean that the Death Note would also be hidden in his room, just as it had been back then. If, on the other hand, he saw that the door was not rigged, then he would understand that there was no Death Note.

And indeed, just as he predicted, there was no bar of lead. A quick inspection of the side of the door confirmed that there was no small piece of paper, either. His door was completely trap-free.

His heart fell.

There was _no_ Death Note. As though it had never happened.

The swell of hope disintegrated within seconds. In retrospect, he considered it foolhardy of him to have thought even for an instant that he would be offered an actual weapon.

'_Besides, even if you do get the Note, what are you going to do with it?'_ The treacherous voice of uncertainty whispered in his mind '_Kill the demons? Farfetched and unlikely.' _And, for once, he wholeheartedly agreed with it.

Therefore, there was nothing left to do than test if he would be allowed to exit the room. He didn't find it impossible that he'd be locked in here with the marionette...would the puppeteer eventually show up as well? Perhaps that was his torture then? He didn't really want to ponder on it.

Sometimes, having an overdeveloped brain able to predict situations wasn't such a good thing.

His surprise overruled his nervousness when he felt the door effortlessly click open. The handle turned smoothly under his clammy hand, and there was the usual creaky sound of wood as the door rolled in its hinges. '_I'm allowed to exit?!'_

Fighting his urge to turn and stare at the puppet, knowing he was being stupid but unable to help it, Raito suppressed a sigh of relief as he exited the room. After all, he didn't feel the surroundings were private enough to allow him to display his sentiments openly. Far from it actually.

Raito walked out to the corridor, expecting to see other puppets hanging around. He was suspiciously surprised to see that the corridor was completely normal. The door to his parents' room was closed, as was Sayu's. Despite his reluctance, Raito approached his sister's door, not knowing what kind of horror he may find inside it but still needing to explore his options. Apparently, despite his superiority, he was still subject to that intrinsically human habit: when one is aware of terror, one wishes to test the limits of that terror.

Sayu's door had been recently fixed by a technician, he recalled, so it didn't creak as loudly as Raito's – he took care to notice that the things he remembered about his real house apparently applied to this place too. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to see, if anything at all. It felt as though something terrible was about to happen and that a piercing scream would rip through the thick, silent air any moment now. '_Exactly like a scene from a thriller movie'_, Raito thought. The only difference was that it was real, and that the only murderer in the house was himself.

Sayu was in her bed, sleeping quietly. Her pink walls and creamy white covers appeared light blue in the spotlight. Raito could barely discern that his sister appeared to be the same as he'd last seen her: not a high-school girl any more, but a young woman. This new information was discordant with the setting of the house, Raito reflected, as he closed the door and moved to that of his parents' room. When Sayu had entered college, Raito hadn't been living in this house – he'd rented his own apartment with Misa.

Not to mention that Raito himself appeared to be the same age as when he'd died – twenty-three. This was also inconsistent: he had stopped living in this house ever since he was eighteen. If his torturers wanted him to buy their scheme, then why didn't they make it more realistic? Why didn't they put him in the house he had last lived in, instead of this one?

A quick check verified that his mother was also safely tucked in her bed. The fact that his father was absent did not come as a surprise, at first, since Raito automatically thought '_He has another investigation'. _But then, quickly remembering the setting of the situation, he realized that this was not real life.

Raito didn't like this. The familiar environment was already taking a toll on his cautiousness. He must always keep in mind that this is not the real thing. These aren't his real parents and this isn't his real house, despite appearances. The clock and the marionette in his room could verify that. Under the circumstances, his Father's absence could be considered suspicious, and a worrying factor. Except of course, if it was just designed in order to recreate his real life with his parents.

Going downstairs was a troublesome affair, seeing as the staircase was dark and the lower floor even darker. The day hadn't dawned yet, so it was only to be expected. A careful perusal of his surroundings verified what Raito had begun to suspect: everything was in place, everything was natural. This was a complete carbon-copy of his house. The only difference was that it was darker, and rigged with suspicious artefacts.

Dark. In fact, it had felt so long since he had regained his senses, that it was starting to seem like dawn would never come.

'Is this it? Is this the torure? Eternal night, while everyone else is sleeping?' 

On the one hand he realized he was being paranoid, but on the other he knew one could never be _too_ careful with these things. He had to stay extremely cautious in order not to be caught by surprise when the torture would finally come, he thought, as he moved to the front door. Or, perhaps, he'd already gone through the worst of it. He shuddered at the memory of the Hands.

'_What the hell is the point of doing this to me anyway_?' he wondered sourly '_I'm already dead, aren't I!'_

Distracted as he was, and accustomed to encountering normalcy by now, he unlocked the front door – his mother always left her keys on it during the night – and opened it. He'd been prepared to see the steps leading to their house's iron gate. Not a huge, black void, stretching everywhere past the front step. Uncontrollably, reflexively, Raito slammed the door shut and took a few steps back.

For a moment, he'd thought he was falling down the cursed building once again. A few moments passed while he tried to stabilize his heart rate. Then, still panting, he grabbed the door handle again and gingerly pulled it towards him.

But it hadn't been his imagination. Out of the door he could see...nothingness. It was as though he was holding a door, and past that door the world ended. He recalled encountering this scene in video games, when he was a child. In fact, it almost seemed as though something black and spidery – perhaps even black hair – would crawl out of the void and grab him. Losing control over his actions, he slammed the door shut, turned around with limbs heavy as brass, and walked to the drawing room.

He sat on the couch stiffly, not knowing what to do or what to think. So...the rules of the game had been set. He was obviously not allowed to leave this house. Fair enough...he could live with that...fair enough...Unfortunately, Raito was not immune to the universal rule of inversion: when you steadfastly try not to think of something, you end up constantly thinking about it instead.

Mechanically, he reached to turn on the nearby lamp, and was actually surprised to see it working without any mishaps. Having verified the existence of basic utilities, his next step was to turn on the television. He wasn't sure whether or not his torturers would promote their game to such naturalism. But apparently, he was wrong, because the television worked swell – unfortunately, though, there weren't any news, just some porn movies. Switching it off with a bored look, Raito let himself sink in the cushions of the settee, bathed in the warm – alarmingly normal – light of the lamp.

He decided that his best chance would be to try and distract himself. Reassured that the functional parts of his house were in working condition after verifying the existence of television, he stood up and moved to the large bookcase. Selecting an interesting tome about judicial practice – which he had already read as a teenager, of course – he moved back to the sofa.

Settling in a fairly comfortable position at the middle of the cushions and glad to be freely wearing something different than his suit, he rested the ankle of his right leg on his left knee and steadied the large book on his thighs.

This would be a good way to forget what he'd seen a few moments ago, Raito decided, unwilling to remember what lay – or rather, did not lay – outside the door.

He reminded himself that he had liked this book; it was constructive. It would be nice to refresh his knowledge about the faults of the law-enforcing system in modern times. With a suppressed sigh of relief – '_you never know who's watching' _– he felt his shoulders sag slightly in relaxation. At last, something comfortable. He calmed down and opened his newest find.

But the pages were all blank.

-

«Onii-chan...Is that you? What are you doing in the kitchen so early? » a brief pause, and then a long, characteristic whine «Waaahhhh!!! Onii-chan is turning into a pervert!? Go and wear your clothes, already! »

«...» Raito's face was as unresponsive as ever, as he sat on one of the kitchen stools, staring at the newcomer. His auburn hair, which formed the characteristic fringe, cast his glaring, narrowed eyes to shade. Finally, he blinked a few times, as though shaking himself off a trance, and spoke: «...Sayu. »

It wasn't much of a greeting. It was a statement. This girl was his sister. Indeed, she was the real personality: there was nothing even remotely demonic about her. From the warm eyes to the dark acorn hair, it was his sister. And right now she was looking at him with a characteristic rather dubious look, as though sizing him up. Then, finally, she spoke again.

«Hey, Onii-chan...» she said with a small grin, moving to the fridge «You're acting kinda strange today. »

«I...» after a short pause, Raito realized that he hadn't shared a non-hostile conversation with another entity for such a long time that he was now at a loss as to what to say «...guess.» he concluded, mentally praising his eloquence. Then, finally, he decided to test the waters «How long have I been here? » he decided to ask, just to acclimate himself with the paranoia of the situation «Haven't I rented a house with Misa? »

«With whom? » his sister asked, setting her sushi breakfast on the counter and sitting on the stool on Raito's left. Since it was obviously summer and the heat was stifling, she was also wearing light clothing and had tied her hair up in a ponytail. But the thing that caught Raito's attention most of all was her apparent ignorance about what he was talking about.

'Is this some twisted version of reality, where the Death Note and Misa aren't involved with me?' 

«Misa» he repeated, hoping Sayu just hadn't heard him correctly «Amane Misa» he clarified, weighing the girl's reaction.

«Oh! Of course...» his sister said, staring at the distance with an enlightened look. She then gave him another of her estranged gazes. «I thought you didn't want to talk about that anymore...what with the way you two split up and all...what's gotten into you today, onii-chan? »

'The way you two split up.' 

Raito supposed it would seem even stranger if he asked for clarifications. It was obvious from Sayu's treatment and dismissal of the topic that Misa did not play a major role in his life... Apparently, Sayu believed he'd been a couple with Misa before and split up on disagreeable terms.

His sister swallowed the last part of her onigiri, and then continued speaking, as in an afterthought. «Honestly...and then she sent you that horrible doll-thing...I bet she wants to try doing voodoo! Onii-chan, I can't believe you _actually_ kept it and even hung it in your room! »

'_Trust me'_, Raito thought begrudgingly, immediately understanding what the other was talking about, '_if I could help it, it would be buried six feet under, dead from heart attack.' _But on the outside, he just smirked and shrugged. Since he hadn't even tried to dislodge it from the wall, he couldn't claim anything.

He didn't speak much after that, reminding himself that it was not wise to become comfortable around this girl, however much she might resemble his sister both in appearance and in conduct. If she turned out to be a demon in the end, he would have sorely regretted trusting her.

Sayu made small talk, as always, talking about her friends in college, about show biz news, about neighbour so and so who had been found in flagrante with neighbour so and so...Raito reposed in his seat, trying but inevitably failing to be comforted by the familiarity of the whole thing.

After his little surprise with the quality of the books in the house, he hadn't been able to relax substantially. Not that relaxation was an option recently, he thought sourly. Not that it had _ever_ been an option since he'd found the Death Note. The closest he'd ever been to relaxation was the two heavenly months after L died.

'No, I mustn't think that way.' He immediately reverted his trail of thought. 'The Death Note is the best thing that happened to me. Thanks to it I became a man who was able to change the world.'

Sayu's chatter then broke through his thoughts «...-but seriously, onii-chan. You should go get dressed before mom comes down. She must already be cleaning upstairs. »

Raito nodded, standing up, unable to postpone it any longer. The problem with getting dressed was that, in order to find his clothes, he'd have to enter his room. And when he'd enter his room, he'd come fact to face with..._that thing._ And when he'd come face to face with that thing in broad daylight...well...he didn't exactly know what would happen. Not knowing was the worst of all.

'Look at me! One would think I'm acting like a toddler. Ryuuzaki would think I'm stupid.' He admonished himself, trying to psyche himself up, and forced his limbs to obey him.

Steeling his throbbing heartbeat and keeping a mask of utter calmness; he opened the door to his room. Truth be told, despite the sunlight of the summer morning, he'd been expecting the room to be just as dark, stifling and deadly as he'd left it that morning – was that what the room had been like after he'd died, he grimly wondered. But instead, he entered a brightly-lit, suspiciously neutral environment. Unable to help himself this time, he turned to the wall, where he'd seen the marionette hanging that morning, expecting the eyes to follow his every movement.

However, the only thing he saw was a non-descript doll, perhaps a little gaudy – concordant to Misa's true tastes – but certainly without moving eyes. Yes, it was smiling, like all other puppets. But in the daylight, its smile appeared more ridiculous and clownish than wicked.

Now Raito felt like a fool. He was sure of what he'd seen that morning...it couldn't have been a hallucination...could it?

Despite the apparent unobtrusiveness of the doll, he hurried with his clothing, eager to leave this place as soon as possible. The noticed the clock on the night stand, with its ever-present ticking sound, and saw that it was pointing to half past seven, like any other normal clock.

'Wouldn't it by funny if the whole torture thing was a hallucination?' He thought, and immediately cursed himself. This was exactly the kind of thing that he shouldn't be thinking. He was sure that this was just another scheme to drive him crazy, exactly by making him wonder what was and what wasn't a hallucination. It was his responsibility not to fall for it!

He exited the room briskly and went back downstairs. Now that the marionette appeared less satanic, he was willing to retry the books in the library. Perhaps the books had also changed, along with the doll. This time, he elected the first tome of Encyclopaedia Britannica. He eagerly opened it, expecting to see pages with extremely fine print and some illustrations. But all he saw was blank papers.

'Why? Why make the books blank?' He wondered. 'What the hell is the point? Torturing me with boredom?'

«Good morning, dear.» his mother's voice sounded from the kitchen, and Raito turned to see her, noticing that Sayu had left – probably gone upstairs. He blamed himself for not paying better attention to the actions of these artificial people. They could turn to demons any minute.

«Morning. » Raito answered, and then, looking back at the book in his hands, got an idea. He walked to the kitchen swiftly and set the heavy book on the counter with a thud. His mother, who was busy with the morning chores, turned to him with a questioning look.

«Dear? » she started, but Raito interrupted her straight away.

«Mother, would you please do me a favour? » he asked, and made sure his voice had the appropriate dose of politeness in it «Could you come here and see this book? »

«Of course...» she said, wiping her hands on the towel she was holding and giving her son a bit of a strange look. When she came to stand on the other side of the counter, hovering over the book, she nodded first at the book and then at Raito «...yes? What is it? » she asked.

Raito could feel his hands grow clammy «Can you...see what's written here? » he asked, hoping he didn't sound too abnormal.

His mother was a kind woman, so she humoured him «It's a text about Anacondas, dear. » she said, with a good-natured smile «Was there something specific you wanted me to notice? »

But Raito just nodded, slowly and pulled the book aside «Thank you, mother...it's nothing special, really. I just thought I couldn't read it clearly. » He lied with familiar smoothness «I'm afraid that this font is a tad too small for me. Perhaps I may be becoming slightly myopic? »

His mother looked worried «Oh, dear...it's must be all those hours you spend in front of the computer! You should take care to make an appointment with a doctor. » she said «Perhaps your father knows someone. He said he'd be coming home the day after tomorrow, so why don't you ask him then? »

Raito nodded, with a practiced easy-going smile «Of course, I'll do that. » And he moved to the bookcase to set the book back. Exchanges with his parents always made him feel as though he was a bank accountant; smiling at everyone and calling them names on the inside.

Nevertheless, his mother had told him what he wanted to know. She could see text in the books, but he couldn't.

'What I want to know is why. Why the books, when they could mess with everything else?'

Obviously, the cards of this game were not all set on the table just yet.

He wondered if the same principle stood with the front door. Could the others see a world out there, when the only thing Raito could see was void?

Sayu solved this question later that day, when she loudly proclaimed that she'd be meeting with a friend in Shinjuku and walked through the front door, heedless, as though everything was normal. At the same time, the only thing that Raito saw was his little sister getting sucked into the void.

And Raito was left in the house, trapped, all day long. Without books, without the Death Note to record names from TV news, without anything. He just sat there, waiting for something horrible to happen.

But what, he didn't know.

-

It had been more than three weeks that he'd been stranded there. He'd been keeping track. Three weeks of artificial normalcy. The only abnormal things happened at night, when the puppet would start following Raito with its eyes and the clock started counting counter clockwise, until it reached 'five o'clock'. Then it would start ticking normally once again.

As though the cycle of the same day was being repeated, over and over again. Naturally. Raito never slept in his room at night; he preferred the sofa in the living room and had steadfastly ignored the strange look he'd been receiving from every other member of the family. He had tried to come up with a good excuse. Apparently, when he'd said, with a desolate look, that his bedroom reminded him too much of '...the time I spent with her...' his parents had exchanged grievous looks and patted his shoulder. They'd asked no questions after that, apparently having completely bought his story about pining for Misa, his old girlfriend and the 'love of his life, who he'd tragically and irreversibly split up with'.

It wasn't that much of a lie, either: his bedroom really did remind him too much of her. That freaky little Misa-puppet looked ready to positively chew his liver off. As time passed, he'd discovered that he was, in fact, not crazy. The Misa-shaped marionette in his room would become alive at night – the eyes would follow him everywhere. Then, during the day, it would become just a simple, nondescript porcelain doll. As though it was trying to tease him.

His father had indeed come...just like he had in real life. He'd carelessly walked in the house through the void of the front door. More than once, Raito had wondered if the solution of this puzzle was to walk through the door. In fact, he'd even gathered courage and tried it once, feeling desperately bored. He'd steeled himself and clicked his jaw in determination, and then he'd walked right into the void, trying not to think of the Hands.

And after he stepped in the blackness, the next thing he knew was that he was in his room again – the room with the abnormal clock and the marionette. It was a loop, just as he'd guessed. If he tried to leave the house, he'd be transported back to his room. The same thing stood for the windows and the kitchen back door, naturally. He was trapped in here, waiting for the unknown doom. Everyone could exit the house and read the books instead of him.

Seeing as he had so much spare time in his hands, he puzzled over the solution to this problem. Nothing horrible had happened to him...yet. Therefore, he didn't really know what he was supposed to be doing, if anything at all. He'd never been accustomed to idling around, so he didn't know what to do with himself. And the ominous sensation of waiting for doom to strike could also not be alleviated.

Raito had wondered if he was perhaps supposed to touch the puppet to advance the puzzle, because the situation appeared to have reached a standstill. He hadn't gathered the guts to actually touch it, yet, though reluctant to admit it. Not even during the day. If that was the solution, then he was willing to wait a bit more... Nothing painful was happening to him, at least for the time being, so...

The most worrying thing, perhaps, was that the members of his family interacted with him and with each other in a completely regular way. His father, whenever he came home, was exactly the way Raito had remembered him. After going through the inevitable discomfort of seeing a dead man back to life, Raito had realized that these...these...individuals were not demon-clones, like the Ryuuzaki of the interrogation had been. They were simulations of the real thing. The real people. He didn't know if they were reflections of his own memory, or simple representations of what he perceived. In any case, they were completely natural, to the extent that they made Raito feel as though he was in his own element. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

Now that he was getting used to this entire normalcy, the panic would hit him much stronger when it all inevitably ended. By now, the Hands had become a vague, buried memory. This was, perhaps, not such a good thing. If he was to be thrown and tortured again after being left in this environment for so long, he knew he'd completely lose his mind and the damage would be irreversible.

Which was why he was so reluctant to touch the mannequin. What if, after he touched it, the house and family were sunk in eternal night? What if, after touching it, Sayu and his mother became demons? What if Misa suddenly appeared? There were a thousand what-ifs, which Raito wasn't sure he wanted to explore.

Even though he was deprived of books or other mental stimulus, even though this wasn't his real family – and he had never even liked his real family to begin with – at least now he was not in constant pain or panic. And that was good enough, at least until he could figure out the solution.

Because no matter how realistic the illusion was, Raito wasn't fool enough to believe, not even for a second, that he was 'off the hook'.

-

After another four weeks of staying there, cooped up in the house, Raito was alternately calm and jumpy, as though waiting for the storm to erupt any second now. It was the inevitable consequence of living with the same people for an extended amount of time that made him start to treat them as the real humans. He had tried to prevent himself from doing it, of course, but after nearly two months of relative calmness, he couldn't help but think of them as though they were normal. He was always wary and resistant of exposing himself, of course. He may have been adapted to the environment, but he wasn't stupid.

It was true on the other hand that extreme familiarity could brew annoyance. Raito couldn't stand it anymore. He had nothing to do. The fact that the television mysteriously played the same program over and over again every day also had something to do with his desperation. The clock turning anti-clockwise and repeating the same cycle was also a dead-giveaway: he was supposed to do something, or else he'd be trapped in here.

'Forever.'

It had become obvious that nothing else would happen unless he took action. So, one evening, he braced himself and walked up to his bedroom. It was obvious that the marionette was the answer. He had no choice but to touch it. What other hint did he need? The memory of extreme pain, of the Hands, assaulted him yet again as he approached the harmless puppet. That memory had been the only thing holding him back until now. What if he was given no other chance? What if he was sent directly back to torture? What would he do then? After all this rest and recreation, he doubted he had enough courage to repeat the process.

Gritting his teeth and calling himself an idiot for feeling intimidated, he touched the bleeding doll. It was daytime, of course - he wasn't bonkers enough to even approach it during the night.

The tip of his finger made just the barest bit of contact with a porcelain hand, but the chill that went up his spine was disproportionately strong. He shouldn't feel surprised that the puppet's eyes sprung to life. Really, he shouldn't. But he couldn't really help the gasp that escaped him, as he found himself touching the hand of one very awake, very aware doll. Despite it being daytime, the thing had sprung to life.

The speed with which he removed his hand was spectacular. He almost even knocked the nearby frame off the wall in his haste. As the puppet watched him with its eerie smile, its wickedness now fully discernible in the clear daylight, he felt his heart throb and his temperature augment. The more flustered he felt, the wider the smile seemed to become.

Was he...

Was he being mocked?

He was expecting some great revelation to take place, something amazingly horrifying to happen. Even if he was suddenly dropped to the Hands then and there he would not have been surprised. Desperate, but not surprised.

But the only thing that could be heard was the steady, heavy ticking sound of the clock gears. It almost sounded like a breath. As though the puppet was...breathing. Then, suddenly, like the strike of thunder, a voice broke through the air, and Raito felt his knees weaken, momentarily believing the puppet was speaking.

«Onii-chaaaaan! Daddy's here! »

Raito cursed, trying to calm his beating heart. The smile had grown impossibly wide by now, and the eyes appeared glassier than any other time. Raito promptly turned around and walked to the door.

Nothing earth-shattering had happened, contrary to what he had expected. The thing hadn't even started talking, much less transformed to a demon monster. His father's arrival had been scheduled from before, so it couldn't be associated with his touching the doll. Therefore, no change had occurred whatsoever, save for the fact that the puppet's smile had grown in mockery.

'At least no immediate change.'

It still seemed very strange. Having spent so much time here without seeing anything go awry, Raito had been sure that the puppet would provoke some sort of... Now he was even feeling slightly disappointed. How could he have misjudged everything?

«Onii-chaaan! »

In any case, Raito was jarred back to the present action and walked faster down the corridor.

«Oh, hi Dad. » Raito said as he came down the stairs. He was greeted with the sight of his father, holding an evening newspaper – which, in Raito's eyes, appeared as blank pages – and sitting comfortably on the armchair.

«Raito! How've you been? » his father asked, with his customary gruff, tired voice. As usual, the son took a seat on the sofa, making himself comfortable. He could hear Sayu shuffling around in the kitchen – probably looking for sweets again, Raito thought with annoyance. Almost as bad as Ryuuzaki, that girl. But of course, these people had no idea who Ryuuzaki – or, for that matter Kira – was, so Raito would never explain to her how much her sweet tooth aggravated him.

«How's the investigation coming along? » the amber-eyed youngster asked, while plucking a few stray threads out of his jumper. The 'investigation' was nothing as serious or complex as the Kira case, of course. It was a murder case, from what Raito's father had told them – it wasn't as though Raito could read any newspapers now, was it – where the killer had stabbed a woman and her lover to the death. Honestly, what an idiot criminal who couldn't control his own emotions, Raito thought. People like that really were better off dead, or else they'd create problems like this.

«We haven't tracked him down yet, but we've uncovered some vital clues about his identity. Probably the ex-husband or a stalker...» Souichirou said, shaking his head in disapproval. Raito was not swayed by this show of police righteousness. He had discovered first hand, unfortunately, that his father was all bite and no bark. Sure, he defended justice...but he never did anything substantial to apply it. Prisons weren't enough. People needed real punishment and fear.

Only through massive punishment would they stop doing something evil, Raito thought. Kira helped the world. After nearly two months away from corporal punishment, Raito apparently had forgotten the more negative effects of having sent a hundred thousand souls to Hell. He had returned to his basic, personal beliefs.

'The Death Note was the best thing that ever happened to me,' Raito reassured himself with new conviction, 'I'd do it all over again if I had the chance! And if idiots like him hadn't spoiled everything,' he thought spitefully, looking at his father from beneath his brownish-blonde eyelashes, 'I'd still be the God of the New World!

«Well, Father...» Raito started, in a sugar-coated voice «If you ever need any help, you know you can count on me. »

Souichirou stared at him for a few moments, obviously in parental satisfaction «Thank you, son. I appreciate that. But you're already doing enough. »

'I've done more for justice than you could ever imagine', Raito sourly thought, as he smiled back to his unsuspecting father. 'I gave up my entire life for it... but someone had to. I was the one chosen for this heavy burden, so I bore it without complaint. What have you ever done that is so great?'

«Onii-chan» Sayu's call broke the silence, distracting Raito from his musings. He gritted his teeth, shook his head and forgot about his angry thoughts. «Wanna play a board game? »

The chestnut haired man shrugged, in honest disinterest. Games like 'Trivial Pursuit' lived up to their name when it came to him. However, occupying himself with anything, even if it was as plebeian as that, would serve to temporarily distract him from his new worries. Why hadn't that marionette done something? Would he be trapped here, with these naive people, indefinitely? Was this what his torture was supposed to be?

«Sure, Sayu...why not. » he concluded, without excitement, and watched her bring the Monopoly table game to the living room. He observed her as she set up the board on the table. She was an indifferent individual, who left him with neutral impressions. Not particularly pretty, but not ugly either. Very nondescript girl in personality, intelligence and appearance. At times he was amazed such an average creature was his sister. «Where's mom? » he asked, not really interested in the answer.

«She went to the grocery store – said she'd come back soon» the girl reassured.

Nevertheless, Raito concluded, at least his sister was as silent, guileless and unobtrusive as their mother. Nothing close to how clingy, whiny and narcissistic Misa had always been. He supposed silence was a virtue in women, remembering Misa's constant complaining.

«-but seriously, onii-chan, » Sayu was saying when Raito came back into focus «you should try doing something more constructive that just lounging around here all day long. Idleness is not good, you know? »

Raito nodded, having heard this before and, frankly, having thought about it himself. «Sayu» he started, having devised an appropriate lie «haven't I told you that I'm working on that project to help dad in his work? It's a program to help the police correlate statistics about criminals...dad, I've told you about this, haven't I? »

Souichirou nodded. «Yes, it sounds very interesting. » Indeed, Raito had talked about it. He'd had to find some excuse as to why he had not exited the house for almost two months – apart from being irreparably heartbroken about breaking up with Misa, his 'beloved' girlfriend. He suspected that, even if they weren't his real family or his real life, it would seem increasingly strange of him to tell them that he was blocked from exiting the house by a solid black barrier. Ironically, the program he had told them he was making was the one he had constructed during the Kira case, when he and L had been handcuffed and working frantically together.

«But still» Sayu concluded «staying shut in the house for so long? Onii-chan is good-looking now, but you'll get flabby if you don't exercise regularly! »

Raito had a vague sense of deja-vu, as though he'd heard a similar phrase somewhere before...but for the life of him, he couldn't clearly remember it.

«It's all right...since my mind is working overtime, I will still lose fat.» he concluded, and hated the fact that he sounded extremely like Ryuuzaki, who had used the same excuse in order to consume preposterous amounts of candy on a daily basis.

Ryuuzaki, the person who was apparently too bored to lift his hand and hold a spoon properly. Ryuuzaki; the incurable couch potato, who could outwrestle bloody Bruce Lee. It pissed Raito off just thinking about it.

«Which one will it be? » Sayu asked, holding up the multiple Monopoly pawns. Raito, due to recent traumatic experiences, did not even want to look at the Toukyo Tower, let alone use it as a pawn. He picked the miniature brass Shinto temple and was done with it. Sayu picked the geisha.

She had just placed the pawns on the first square of the board when an insistent sound, like the increasing sound wave of an animal stampede, broke out all around them. She paused, mid-action, and exchanged a look of vague query with her brother.

Their father sat up slowly, fingers becoming lax around the newspaper, and turned his head upwards, as though trying to determine where the sound was coming from. It was becoming louder and louder, a deep rumbling. A few seconds later, Raito felt a small disturbance in the ground. Immediately he turned his head upwards, seeing Sayu do the same from the corner of his eye. Indeed: the living room lamp was shaking slightly.

«Oh, another earthquake! » the girl expressed everyone's thoughts. Souichirou and his son shot up within moments – you never knew with these things. It might turn out to be a fluke, but if it was serious... The shaking was intensifying with each passing second. They were waiting for it to pass and recede, but it seemed to be constantly growing instead. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raito felt puzzled as to how this could be happening when this was clearly not the real world...Perhaps his torturers wanted to increase the realism of the whole charade?

However, he didn't have much time to ponder. The sound became terribly loud, and noises of clattering objects echoed around the house. Suddenly, Raito felt a rough hand grab his upper arm brutally, dragging him to the right. Raito barely registered that his father was pulling him out of the way, before he heard a clatter behind him. It was his mother's framed photos.

«Ahh!!! » Sayu's high-pitched shriek sounded, as the ground started shaking badly enough to throw them all off their feet. They tried to cover themselves beneath the furniture, but soon realized that it was fruitless, since they wouldn't be adequately protected.

«Quick, Raito! To the basement! » Souichirou's loud voice sounded from somewhere Raito could not see, since he was lying prostrate on the ground. The whole world was shaking, he couldn't see straight. His panting breath and wildly pumping adrenaline were not helping him stay calm.

Even so, he lost no time, realizing that what his father said was right. They had to run to the kitchen and enter the door to the basement – a room with specially fortified walls for an emergency like this. Raito hoisted himself up with some effort, trying not to feel nauseous. Automatically, he leaned down and grabbed Sayu's forearm, unsteadily dragging her along with him. She was almost crying, but he had no time to tend to her needs. Instead, he tried to walk straight.

«Stay away from the walls! » their father shouted from behind, and Raito didn't need to be told twice. Plasters were falling all around them, candles and crystal ornaments were shattering to the floor. And as though that wasn't enough, with a sudden violent tremble, all the lights in the house turned off.

«Aaa! » Sayu shouted, frightened out of her wits by the power failure, just as Raito's gruff voice was heard saying «Shit! »

«Hurry up!! » Souichirou urged, his voice much closer than Raito had expected. The siblings held onto each other for support, because trying to walk without falling down was a task in itself. He couldn't support himself on the walls, and Sayu wasn't being all that helpful, seeing as she was more a solid burden than an actual moving person.

«Sayu, move! » Raito ordered her and jerked her forward violently. However, his voice was drowned in the rumbling sound of the earthquake. The floor gave a particularly nasty vibration, and Raito stumbled, slamming against the kitchen table. Sayu's stiff body collided with him from behind, making his ribs dig painfully in the wood. He gave a muffled groan and then got his act together again, pushing away from the table.

Since it was summer, the evening wasn't as dark as it could have been and they could still see the surroundings relatively well. However, the earthquake was so violent – more violent than natural, Raito realized with a clench of his stomach – that they couldn't clearly see where they were going.

«Quick! » his father's voice barked from the left, and Raito turned to see Souichirou's figure holding the basement door open. Apparently, he'd managed to unlock it while Raito had been trying to extract himself from the table.

The youngster dived through the door, not remembering that they'd have to climb down some stairs in order to get to the basement. He heard the door slam shut behind him and felt his father's hands pushing him forward, almost manhandling him. His father was the first to start walking down the staircase, supporting himself against the metal walls. Since the ground was now madly galvanizing under their feet and they were trapped in a narrow corridor, the girl started screaming, plucking at Raito's sleeve almost desperately.

They were already safe from the crumbling walls of the house. The basement walls were all made of fortified metal, able to support any weight. Even if the entire house crumbled above them, they'd still be safe as long as they stayed in here, in the basement, which was the equivalent of a panic room.

Without thinking any more than necessary, Raito flattened his left palm on the wall for support and grabbed Sayu's sweaty fingers with his free hand. However, he didn't manage to take two steps before he felt the ground palpitate. In a wild instant of panic he slipped, and started falling. A keen sense of deja-vu overcame him, and it was as though he was dropping from the platform all over again.

The only thing he could hear, as he tumbled down the narrow metallic stairs, were his father's and Sayu's shouts, his own beating heart, and the sounds of their house falling apart from above. Then a step dug in the back of his head, and he knew nothing more.

-

Something cool and liquid trickled over his lips, dribbling in his mouth. When it reached the back of his throat, his eyes slammed open and he started coughing and sputtering with abandon.

«Onii-chan! » and «Raito! » he heard two voices call simultaneously, and shook his head. There was a horrible pain, which played up every time he turned his head to the left, as though someone had badgered his skull with a mullet and then reassembled it the wrong way.

At least the voices informed him he wasn't deaf. He appeared to temporarily suffer from memory loss; however, since it took him about a minute to remember who he was with and what had happened.

«Ugh...» he groaned as he sat up, grateful for the cool hand he felt against his forehead. He raised his own palm and steadied the wet towel that was being held on his head.

«Thanks, Sayu...» he muttered in a scratchy, hoarse voice and hunched forward. He felt his sister withdraw her hand now that he was holding the towel in place, and he rocked a bit back and forth, trying to bring his brain back to life.

«What happened? » he asked, more than a little numbly.

«You fell down the stairs and hit your head. » Souichirou explained slowly, and Raito was glad that he had a policeman father, who knew he should talk quietly when people are hurt in the head. «Thankfully, you cushioned Sayu's fall, so you didn't both get hurt...are you alright? » Mr Yagami inquired, his face barely illuminated against the light of the oil lamp.

'No'

«Yes...I'm fine...» Raito restrained a groan and sighed. Unable to prevent himself from shaking slightly, he stood up and perused the room. His eyes were playing tricks on him, since it felt as though the entire room was shaking up and down, again – it was the after-effect of the huge quake.

«I tried to open the door, but it won't budge...Who knows what may be blocking it from the other side...? » Souichirou's voice sounded distant. They had just lost their house and all their belongings, after all, if Raito's assumptions were correct. Raito personally thought his father should be grateful for still being alive.

The basement was very narrow, with metallic walls and absolutely no furniture. There was an oil lamp in the far corner of the room and the three other corners were occupied with provisions and supplies: canned food, sleeping bags, flashlights, radios...that kind of thing. Raito was willing to bet by the Richter intensity of that earthquake that it may have had something to do with his long-awaited torture. He knew their house was probably mostly wrecked by now...ironically, though he had helped create it, he'd never thought they would ever actually need to use this basement.

'Is it just a coincidence that this is happening the day I finally touched the puppet?' was the most prominent question running through his mind.

«I've sent a distress call...» Souichirou said, and Raito turned to stare at his grim face, which somehow seemed less plump and more weary than before in the dim light «It's probably a matter of hours until they find us...» then, as an afterthought, he added: «If the police station is intact, of course.»

«But mother...» Sayu said, and didn't complete her statement. Raito looked at their worn faces, the very pictures of desperation, and knew that they were probably assuming the worst. At that moment, seeing them sitting like that, the very incarnations of desperation, he was more furious with them than any other time. Cowards. Honestly, what did they know of panic? They thought this was bad? They obviously hadn't felt their bodies being ripped apart by two thousand hands. If this earthquake was the next stage of his torture, Raito thought, then he'd be more than happy to put up with that.

«Otou-san, are you sure you're okay? » Raito heard his sister ask their father. He heard Souichirou answer positively, but very tiredly. Then, Raito sat back down and leaned his back on the wall.

«Well» he said, not really addressing anyone and mostly speaking his thoughts aloud. «There's nothing we can do now except wait. » he finished and let his eyes close slightly as he leaned his head back.

Suddenly, he heard a snort from his left and cracked one eye open.

«What's so funny? » he asked shaking his chestnut fringe out of his vision and glaring at his mischievous sister.

«Nothing. » she said, grinning at him with a Cheshire cat smirk «I'm just thinking that it was Onii-san who probably wished for an earthquake, because you didn't want me to beat you in Monopoly. »

The man smirked, closing his eye again and leaning more comfortably against the wall «Beat me? Dream on, little sister. » he muttered, thinking that there probably was only one person in the entire globe able to match Raito in any kind of game, and that person was already dead.

«Dream on. »

-

The rescue hadn't come in a few hours. In fact, it hadn't come in a few days. Raito watched his father send at least five other distress calls, using all means possible – it's not as though they had a good signal, either, so their cell phones and radios couldn't work. His sister was becoming more and more desperate with each passing moment, and her doleful look and comments about the fate of their mother was not helping lighten the mood.

By now all their clothes were dirty, especially Raito's grey cashmere blazer and dark blue jeans. He'd been the one to fall down the most times after all.

And then, perhaps during their third night of staying in the basement, Raito caught something with the corner of his eye. They'd just finished their meal of canned soy beans, when Raito thought he saw his father flinch in apparent discomfort.

«Father...everything all right? » he ventured. He wasn't really accustomed to caring about the welfare of others – especially when he was already holding a grudge against them from the past life. However, he was willing to make an exception, seeing as he was forced to remain in the same space with these people.

He was still labouring to discover the purpose of this new method of torture. What was it supposed to be? Would he be forced to witness his father's and sister's slow deaths in the basement and keep their corpses company? Was that it? That was hardly torturous, albeit miserable...was that why these people were carbon copies of his real family? To make him feel even sorrier, supposedly...? No, that couldn't be it. It had to be something else. This was just too simple.

«Yes...yes I'm fine...» Souichirou said, taking his glasses off and wiping them on his dirty shirt. But even though he appeared composed, Raito noticed that his father's temples were slick with perspiration, and the muscles in his jaw were pumping furiously.

«...are you sure? » the youngster repeated «I mean, I'm sure we can find a-»

«I said I'm fine! » the older man snapped, his voice a lot more aggressive than necessary. Raito indignantly shut his mouth, more as a reflex than anything else. That had been the tone his father had always used with his children when he was angry at them – which was not that often. All this time, Sayu hadn't said a word, and just kept staring silently from one to the other. She jumped a bit after hearing her father's clipped words, and then exchanged a mystified look with her brother.

None of them spoke for an hour or so after that, letting the room sink to a vaguely uncomfortable silence. Until finally, after a while, Souichirou was breathing loudly with ragged pants, which made obvious the fact that something was physically wrong with him. This time, it wasn't Raito who spoke, it was his sister. Her voice was kept soft and pacifying, obviously trying not to provoke their father's wrath.

«Otou-san...? » she started, and her voice was stark against the terse silence «Is it your heart...? Do you...need your pills? » she exchanged another look with Raito as she spoke. They both knew that they couldn't go to the house to find his pills…and they had no provisions down here. What would they-

«Sayu, stop speaking. » her father tensely said, startling his children once more. He was openly panting, by now apparently undergoing some plight. Sayu stopped talking immediately, although she appeared utterly confused. Raito narrowed his eyes and observed the elder carefully: Souichirou was sweating all over by now, and his glasses kept sliding off his nose. His grey-brown hair, left unwashed for days, was as greasy and filthy as his children's'. And the jacket, which had been removed from his wide shoulders, was lying in a bundle on his lap. He appeared flushed, as though subjected to some intense pain, and his black eyes appeared a bit swollen, moving frantically around and unable to rest in one place. It was an unusually unruffled appearance for a man as composed as their father.

There was no question, then. Sayu was right: it probably was the heart problem. Therefore, Raito had been correct in his assumption that he would watch his family members die one by one. This would be his torture. It was certainly a restrictive situation. Yet, he reminded himself, it was not as bad as it could have been. One swift recollection of the Hands was enough to ensure that.

Although...if his father was having problems with his heart...then why was he being so reluctant to say so? If he wanted, then maybe Raito could try to return to the main house and-

«Otou-san...please tell us what's wrong...? » Sayu sat up on her knees and leaned over, resting her hand on their father's shoulder. But her fingers had barely made contact with the cotton fabric of his shirt before he shot up, as though electrified.

«Dad...? » Raito started by the sudden movement, and stood up as he saw his father walking towards the stairs. He noticed, involuntarily, that his father had held his jacket in place over his lap as he had stood up and walked away. Raito logged this information in his remarkably absorbent brain, but did not really process the reasoning behind this strange behaviour. His father normally should be clutching his heart, right? Raito had seen enough heart attacks in his lifetime in order to be able to tell the difference. He had even died from one.

«...hey, dad...wait...» Raito muttered as he moved toward the stairs. He saw Sayu in the process of standing, but made a motion with his hand to placate her. Following her brother's advice, she settled down, thinking that, out of the two of them, Raito could better understand their father and that she could trust his great intelligence to sort out the situation.

Raito walked up the stairs, only to see his father's figure struggling with the door, trying to open it.

«We've already...» Raito started, but Souichirou flamboyantly ignored him, continuing to struggle. It was completely fruitless: the massive door would not open, no matter how hard they ever tried – and they had tried, several times. Obviously, it was blocked by rubble from the other side. But Mr Yagami tackled it with new conviction, as though he were a caged animal desperate to escape.

«Dad-» Raito approached even more. But when he was within an arm's distance from his father, Souichirou unexpectedly turned, with hoarse eyes, and grabbed Raito by the upper arms, starting to shake him. Raito was startled a bit, so he stayed still and expressionless, waiting to see what the problem was.

«Raito...Raito...we have to get this door open, Do you understand?! We have to! » he was acting almost as a raving man, and Raito was temporarily incapacitated at the face of such paranoia. He hadn't expected his father to be act in such a volatile way.

«But why the sudden-» he started saying, and then paused, perusing his father's face better, now that he had a closer look. Yagami senior appeared ruffled, as though moved by some internal panic. With the way he was acting, flushed and panting heavily, Raito could almost say that he was either in extreme pain or-

Raito's eyes, involuntarily and with a sort of sordid fascination, skittered downwards. Then, as they saw the thing they hadn't wanted to see – he hadn't actually believed it was a possibility – they became as wide as saucers. His father was...was-...and the reason why he'd been all hot and bothered, Raito thought with a chill, was that...-?

«Wha...What the..?! » Raito raised his voice unconsciously, extremely aware of the awkwardness and perversion of the situation. But the full impact of the problem hadn't hit him yet. For the time being, he was just vaguely perturbed at the fact that his middle-aged father was sporting an erection while they were locked in a room together.

«Onii-chan, what's wrong? » Sayu's crinkling voice echoed from further within the basement, and Raito heard her footsteps approaching the staircase. But his own look of confounded disquietude was nothing compared to the blind, pure panic that he could see in his father's eyes.

«Get her away from me. » Souichirou said; his voice low and commanding, like that of an animal.

Raito blinked, and then froze all over. His blood turned to ice and the warmest part of his body was his nails.

Faced with the implications of his own father's words, even Raito, with his eternal emotionless mask, couldn't stop his face from forming a grimace of absolute, unprecedented, utter disgust. His amber eyes narrowed impossibly, glaring at the older man as though he was the vilest insect on Earth, and his mouth formed a lax expression of revulsion, signifying he couldn't find appropriate curse-words. Souichirou showed no response to Raito's glare, just kept staring with that look of hoarse, derailed desperation. Raito was so disgusted that he wanted to shake the elder man's hands off him there and then, feeling dirtied by the mere touch of this...this...pervert.

«What the hell are you talking about? » the younger asked with a low growl of his own, amber eyes taking on a predatory glare. «Are you a man or an animal? » Then, almost immediately after he spoke, he turned toward the other side of the staircase, seeing Sayu standing there, staring at them with a look of complete befuddlement.

«Onii- » she started, but Raito interrupted her, for once having trouble keeping his tone calm and sugar-coated.

«Sayu, we'll see what we're going to do with this door, okay...? You just go and wait back in the room. » he said, with a voice more commanding and less reassuring than he had intended. Thank God that, from this angle, his own body was hiding his father's. Hopefully, Sayu would never realize...

The girl nodded, obviously having sensed the tension in the air. Thus, she retreated to the inner room hastily upon hearing her brother's words. The moment she was out of sight, Raito turned back to his father, the repulsed look back in his eyes. Souichirou was holding his head in both hands, staring at the ground, breathing hard.

Right at that moment, all thoughts of this not being his real family had evaporated. All he could think about was that this was his father and his sister, and...And that it couldn't be happening. His father may have been an idiot, but he was never a-a...

«I'll go inside. You just...take care of it. » the youngster said stiffly, clicking his jaw loudly. It took more of his willpower than he imagined possible to utter those words without punching the other man or emptying all the soy beans he'd consumed, but he did it nonetheless. Then, he spun around like an automaton and descended the stairs, not shedding another glance behind him. He didn't think he'd ever be able to look at his father the same way again. The mere thought chilled him. The fact that he'd even...with...

Ugh...Raito felt nauseous as he descended the stairs. Upon seeing Sayu waiting for him a little farther away the dizziness intensified. But he kept his face trained in a serene mask, as he reflexively clasped her shoulder, turned her around and walked to sit with her back in the room.

Well, thank goodness that the most awkward moment of his life had finished.

«C'mon, Sayu...» he muttered «Dad will sort everything out on his own. » and indeed, he did not wish to reflect upon the truth of that statement.

She may have not been his favourite person in the world, but she was his little sister, after all. He couldn't believe this was even happening. Here they were, in the basement, abandoned and hungry, with fading hopes...and all his father had to say about that was...

As they settled down, Sayu posed no other questions. In order to distract her – and primarily himself – from thinking about what their father was doing, he actually degraded himself into playing a game of twenty questions with her.

The time passed extremely slowly for Raito, who was involuntarily aware of every moment their father was missing. They'd just finished their seventh game and the man, who had been keeping track of the time, realized that his father had been up there, doing the unspeakable, for more than thirty minutes.

'Animals.' Raito started thinking derisively, internally disgusted 'Stupid people. Unable to control themselves. I didn't expect even my father to-. Honestly! It's just an urge. Where is their logic?'

He was just in the middle of his mental tirade while Sayu was thinking up a new game, when he heard something creaking from the direction of the stairs. He turned around, expecting to see a pacified, normal man once again.

He was in for another surprise.

«Otou-sa-» Sayu had started saying, but paused when she saw the ragged, obviously distraught face of her father. His features were drawn in a strained expression. In a state of profound shock, Raito barely registered that his father's gritting teeth and tortured expression was vaguely reminiscent of something...like a clownish smile, which displays a lot of teeth...he'd seen it somewhere before...

«Sayu...» Souichirou's voice rang, and Raito felt his insides freeze. Without realizing it, he'd stood up and pulled his sister along, placing his body in front of hers. He didn't like it...that expression-

«Dad» he started saying, with his face straining to remain impassive «Oi, listen...» he started, planning to reason everything out.

«I'm sorry, Raito. » Souichirou said in a pathetic, strangled voice, but he was not stopping his approach. And yet, he didn't look threatening. He looked desperate, maniacal, driven insane. Like a wild animal with rabies. It was worse than anything else – if he'd been vicious, then Raito would say that it's not his father. That it's another demon. But the very fact that he looked so desperate verified that he was, indeed, Souichirou Yagami.

«I'm so sorry...so sorry...I don't mean to!! I can't stop it!! I swear, I can't»

Unconsciously, Raito took a step backwards, squishing Sayu against the corner of the room with his body. The girl latched onto her brother's back, trembling slightly.

«Dad, step back. » Raito said, trying to keep his voice even, fisting his hands and bringing them in front of his chest and face.

«Onii-chan...Stop! W- What's going on? O-Otou-san? » Sayu asked with a trembling voice, and the very state of her powerlessness fuelled her brother's disgust towards their father and his will to prevent this.

«I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, Sayu!!! » Souichirou was muttering, like a mantra, over and over again. Raito realized, with unfailing certainty, what the other was planning to do. He had to act! It was now or never!

«Back off! » he shouted, and was surprised to see his father look at him with an extremely intense, pleading expression.

«You have to...Raito...you have to stop me...I'm...I...» he muttered, grabbing his head and squeezing it, stopping and convulsing for a few moments, as though he was being tortured from the inside. Raito kept staring at him, unyieldingly disgusted, disturbed and irate at the same time. It was obvious, from this angle, that, whatever his father had spent the last half hour doing, the erection hadn't resided one bit. The only thing Raito was remorseful about was that his sister had to see this.

Souichirou gave one last, desolate look, his limbs and fingers all trembling «I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...» he muttered again «But I can't...I have to...if I don't do this I'll die! »

«Otou-san...w-what are you talking about!? »

«Die? Just because you can't control- dad, you idiot! How can you even-This kind of uncontrolled people is the worst!" The younger man barked, and immediately felt Sayu's hands squeeze his shoulders, as though telling him to calm down and to stop shouting.

Then, it all happened so fast. With a last shout of «I'm sorry», Souichirou pounced on them, his superior weight and mass crushing Raito. But the youngster had attacked with a fist, and managed to land a solid punch on his father's thick red neck. They both fell to the ground, and, immediately, Sayu started screaming from her place in the corner.

«Stop it!! Onii-chan, stop it!!! »

But she didn't get the chance to protest much more. Souichirou stood back up faster than Raito had thought possible for his father's age. He rounded in on the girl and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her away from the wall and throwing her forward, on the ground. He was shouting at her to forgive him the entire time.

«OTOU-SAN! What are you doing!!? » she screamed, caught unawares. But by now, Raito had recovered from his fall, and came to her rescue once more. The hatred he felt seeping inside him, the absolute disgust, was enough to amplify his strength by ten times. This time, he punched his father squarely in the cheekbone, hearing a satisfying cracking sound as the other's jaws clattered. Souichirou's glasses flew away from his face. Encouraged, Raito lost no time and landed another punch, making the other man groan in pain.

This was nothing like the rivalry fights he'd occasionally shared with Ryuuzaki. This was violent, vicious, and Raito punched not to vent, but to kill. But his father, apparently, had become just as powerful in his frenzy. He recovered from Raito's punches and then caught Raito's fist in his open palm, just as the boy was attempting a third hit.

And then, with all the force of his massive build, which put Raito's slim silhouette to great disadvantage, Souichirou grabbed the back of his son's head and slammed his skull against the metal wall. Raito heard first the echoing sounds of metal erupt in his brain and then a high-pitched scream, somewhere on the back. As his forehead made contact with the wall, he felt all the power be extinguished from his limbs; his hands flailed around until he started floundering like a fish out of the water. He had been brought against the wall with such force that his entire coordination had been damaged.

«I'm sorry, Sayu! I'm so sorry, but I can't! » Raito thought he heard an echoing voice. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. He fell on his knees and then completely prostrate, spread on the ground. Everything was spinning and he didn't know which way was up and which was down.

«...Sa...yu...» he whispered, through slit lips, and stretched a trembling hand toward the shadows he could see dancing in his vision. He heard screams and heard Sayu's bewildered cries. All those shrieks, merged with pleas for forgiveness. Spurred to action, infuriated but unable to even see clearly – let alone move – Raito tried. «...no...No...» he muttered, incomprehensive. Why the hell was this happening...? How could he have let this happen?! Why had it come to this!? That...that monster!!!

There was a ripping sound accompanied by the girl's terrified cry and, immediately after that, the telltale characteristic clinging of a male belt. Then more screams. He squinted his eyes, but all he could see was blackness, and sparkling dots dancing before his eyes. He couldn't stand it – he couldn't stand hearing it!! He wanted to cover his ears with his hands, but he had lost all control or power over his limbs.

Then a sudden female scream rose high above all others, the scream of penetration, and immediately the only thing Raito could hear were pants, groans of satisfaction and a woman's screams, along with that disgusting squelching sound that Raito knew all too well. The last thing he heard, before all conscious thought abandoned him, was his father's voice, sobbing.

-

Sayu was folded in two on the floor, curled in a foetal position and trembling. Their father was in front of her, his hands and face touching the floor, pleading and crying in near hysteria, begging for forgiveness.

Raito stumbled on his feet, unable to hold his own weight, and supported himself on the walls as he walked. He had a split lip, and blood was dripping in rivers from the back of his auburn head. He walked stiffly, trying to drown out the noises that were still ringing in his ears, as though it was happening right now: his virgin sister's terrified, uncomprehending screams, her piercing cries, as she was raped by her own father.

Unable to bear it anymore, Raito turned around and promptly threw up, making the entire room reek of something even worse than before. Obviously, someone else had also thrown up before him, in another corner of the room. Probably the girl, Raito thought, seeing her limbs convulsing neurotically.

«...Sayu...» Raito's voice was a whisper, and it wasn't meant to be heard. The girl wasn't sobbing or making any sounds, but she was trembling uncontrollably, her hands gripping her most abused body parts with white knuckles.

«Sayu...» Raito repeated, a little louder this time. A spur of dizziness erupted in his head, and he propelled forward, falling to the floor. His fath...that monster, who had heard him speak, immediately turned and stared at him, with desperation written all over his eyes. Raito didn't return his look. Instead, he stood back up stoically and walked forward, toward his defiled sister.

He didn't speak again. When he stretched his hand to touch Sayu's shoulder, her earth-shattering, drawn-out scream was so sudden that it made his skin crawl. His sister, who'd been betrayed…been forced to...to...and now she'd become afraid of any touch.

Raito ignored her screams and towed her upwards, forcing her on her knees and enveloping her with his arms. He stared at her eyes, which were alternately terrified and completely blank. He was well aware that he was a man utterly incapable of comforting any victim. But still, he did have something to say, hoping to amend.

«You are not a man. » he turned to the figure crawling on the floor, still begging and crying apologies. Souichirou didn't say anything in response; he just continued sobbing, brokenly. «You are a monster. » Raito said, his voice dead and flat, carrying the verdict of a hundred thousand souls. «And you deserve to die, because the world would be a better place without humans like you. » Souichirou's sobs heightened, they became frantic.

«You're right! » he shouted «You're right! » but Raito had made his ears deaf to all apologies. The man started clawing at his face, plucking at his hair, making ripping motions at his chest. Raito shuddered as he watched the display, remembering things that were better left forgotten.

«You're right...Raito...you're...» Souichirou whispered, brokenly, falling in a begging position once again. What an elaborate act. Were he a lesser man, Raito may have even believed that he truly was sorry.

«You are a monster! You hear?» his hate intensified, so he shouted again, growing fearless as he felt his sister's body shaking in his arms «A monster!»

By now, hearing Raito's words, Sayu also started sobbing. Her brother, not knowing how to treat her or comfort her at a time of such intense desperation, kept doing the only thing he could. He vindicated her, gave her justice...made her plight known for the world to hear. That this man was a perverted, uncontrolled monster, a rapist like any other, a-

'Where is the Death Note when I need it the most?'

«Monster!! » Raito shouted again, and his voice was almost drowned out by the deafening screams of his father's apology.

'«I will never forgive you for what you have done!!! »'

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«Urh..nng..uh..Sa...»

«Raito-kun... wake up» a dark, husky voice permeated the space of his thoughts. It was a strange voice. Had the speaker not been intentionally quiet, it would have sounded gruff and ominous. Raito thought...

...he may have heard this voice somewhere before...

«Raito-kun? ...I'm under the impression that you're having a nightmare...» and Raito felt something, a touch almost as light as a feather, shake his shoulder. Then, as though electrified, he was awake once more. Wait a minute...had he ever fallen asleep to begin with?!

«Argh!!! » he shouted, with a sudden jerk, and shot up from his lying position. The touch on his shoulder withdrew immediately. His eyes had opened, and they were now wide and hoarse staring straight ahead, without really seeing anything except Sayu's crying face. Her screams were still alive in his ears, and so were his father's chocked sobs. A shiver climbed up his spine.

When the goose-bumps were over, he bent forward in a hunching position, rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. Only then did he realize that he was actually not in the basement any more, but in a bed. How he'd gotten himself here he didn't now; the last thing he could remember was shouting angrily at his father. But now...

He was already breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. He had gathered so much fury that it felt as though he wanted to actively bash anything in close vicinity. His own father...how could he...and his sister. The helpless girl – no; woman, he reminded himself disgustedly – who'd been crying curled up on the floor...And now, he was obviously gone from her side and couldn't even help her. His state of blind wrath, combined with the fact that he'd enjoyed a relatively stable existence for a relatively long time, made him temporarily overlook the fact that he should be searching for signs of a demon conspiracy against him.

'...that monster!'

Seeing himself suddenly transported in a different room, Raito was disoriented. At the time, his mind was entirely occupied with the nightmarish vision he had just witnessed. His throat still felt scratchy from vomiting and shouting, so it couldn't have been a huge hallucination.

His face, utterly expressionless, had now become completely dead with the exception of his eyes. There was a slow fire burning within them, a flame more irate and vehement than ever before.

'Criminals must be punished! Men like him are better off dead! Then, defenceless victims would never be hurt! That's why the Death Note is so important. There must be no mercy!'

Unconsciously, his hand formed a fist. He then realized that he was grabbing some kind of fabric, and looked downwards.

He was gripping the covers of a bed...he'd already established that. But now that he finally paid attention, he realized that it was an eerily familiar bed, with cream coloured sheets and ridiculously squishy cushions.

And then, finally, as if just now opening his eyes to the world for the first time, he recognized his surroundings. Unwilling, like the footsteps of a man led to the crucifix, his eyes slid upwards.

That orange and beige tapestry...of course. He couldn't have forgotten it no matter how many Death Notes he'd ever given up. Gingerly, moving only his eyes and not his head, he tried to discern the far right corner of his vision. Surely enough, there it was: the wooden, single-drawer night stand: the night stand where he'd first found that notorious photo. Suddenly, the solid weight of another human body on his left, which sunk the mattress he was sitting on, became entirely too real. He fixed his eyes on a spot on the wall and refused to move them away, lest he see something he was not yet prepared to accept.

Like the one who was sitting next to him.

«Raito-kun...are you all right? »

Raito's right eyebrow – that treacherous little snake – began twitching. His entire body felt as though it was being submerged in ice, with the sole exception of his heart, which appeared to be heating up instead of cooling down. He could hear breathing, soft and almost undetectable, coming from his left. By now he could recognize that breathing anywhere, having used those lungs.

And the voice...it was just like he remembered...the same voice as the demon who'd been interrogating him for eleven hours. The same voice that sent him to his doom each time. The same voice that called, «Yagami-kun», and brought him death and suffering. Suddenly, the abnormality of the situation slammed in Raito's consciousness with force, and he realized that something was entirely wrong here: how had he been teleported here from the basement of his house...?

This was part of the game. This was the game?! Disorientation?

And Ryuuzaki was right next to him. He knew it before he even had to see it. He could smell it. By now he'd learned to detect the milky scent of baby creams, which always accompanied Ryuuzaki's body. But he didn't dare turn around and verify it.

The last time he'd laid his eyes on Ryuuzaki, Ryuuzaki's jaw had been three feet long, and his head had looked like an oversized light bulb – not to mention his 'jovial' red, glowing eyes. Last time he'd seen Ryuuzaki as a 'person', Ryuuzaki had been just a small shadow, looming on the top of a building as Raito's eyes were being plucked out of their sockets.

Frankly, if Raito turned around now and saw Ryuuzaki, he didn't really know what he might do. He didn't trust himself. He wasn't sure that he wouldn't strangle Ryuuzaki – now that he could- simply out of reflex, if not malice. It was understood by his logic that Ryuuzaki, the person, was not to blame for the suffering he had persevered. However, it was extremely difficult to separate Ryuuzaki's face from the terror.

He waited more than a few moments; long enough to make sure that his voice wouldn't come out more high-pitched that usual. It wouldn't be prudent to make anyone aware of his internal struggle. He trained his face into complete neutrality and then, finally, answered.

«Of course. Everything's fine. »

A small pause and Raito could practically hear the gears clicking in that complex black-haired brain, which was obviously located directly on his left. Then Ryuuzaki spoke again, and Raito tried to prevent himself from jumping, slightly. Old habits die hard. Unfortunately, at least in the afterlife, Ryuuzaki's voice was never the signal for anything good.

«Are you positive? It would be a great hindrance to the investigation if you fell ill. »

Raito still didn't turn around; too busy evaluating Ryuuzaki's tone. The usage of syntax and vocabulary, combined with the awkward inflection, was entirely different from the one the demonic interrogator had used. Indeed...it sounded like the real person. But Raito was reluctant to take chances, at this point. He made a small, minuscule movement with his left hand, wanting to check if – ahhh. Indeed. The cold metal of a manacle made contact with his bare skin. So he had been transported to that time.

'Handcuffs.'

'I'm tied to Ryuuzaki with handcuffs, and Ryuuzaki is talking like the real person, not the demon. Could it be that this is similar to when I was transferred to my parents' house?'

But that trail of thought only led him to think of the latest development in his parents' house. And that, in turn, led his temper to be subcutaneously inflated once again.

«I'm sure. » he answered Ryuuzaki's inquiries. Naturally, still very much in character, Ryuuzaki ignored Raito's obvious annoyance and badgered on, with his annoying voice.

«We could always have Watari run a routine check-up on you, just to make certain...» the thoughtful tone came, and Raito couldn't help it anymore – it was just too good of an offer. Bracing his guts, knowing that he'd inevitably be forced to look at the other, he turned around, prepared to see a red-eyed, wide-jawed monster. But instead, his whole vision was filled by shades of white, black and pale pink.

«What, now he's a doctor, too? »

Ryuuzaki stared back cryptically with his big black eyes. For an instant, Raito forgot how to breathe, thinking he was seeing the red-eyed demon once again. But then the instant of panic passed, and the only thing Raito could see, right in front of him, was Ryuuzaki's notoriously bug-eyed face, with its void eyes and alabaster cheeks.

The detective was sitting in the customary awkward position, with his laptop resting in front of his toes. He was on top of the covers, of course: it was his policy never to fall asleep in front of primary mass murder suspects. Raito suspected that this policy of L's went more along the lines of not sleeping at all. He'd once told Raito about his «power-replenishing» technique of resting with his eyes open. Raito hadn't sympathized and they'd both left it at that.

«If it's Raito-kun, I'm sure you've noticed Watari has many talents. »

'Don't you mean 'Whammy'?' Raito thought derisively, revelling in the fact that he now knew more things about L than L thought he knew. Raito cursed his luck: he knew he should have tried to find Ryuuzaki's real name, even after L's death. You never knew when an old rival – even a dead one – may start creating problems again.

«Indeed» and his amber eyes stayed fixed on his Ryuuzaki's face. However, his thoughts begun spiralling in another direction.

Enough of this idleness, he thought. He had to figure everything out quickly. What had happened in that basement was a nightmare to be sure...but Raito was certain he'd truly experienced it – it was no dream.

'What is the torture? What should I be looking out for?' He wondered, for the umpteenth time. The display of Sayu's incestuous rape had been horrible, truly...But the only thing it had managed to do was instil in Raito a deep-rooted ire for his father. On the other hand, he should consider - now with a clearer mind - that perhaps the whole situation had been a setup, designed to disgust and emotionally torture him.

But if that was the case...then why had he been translocated into another place, all of a sudden? A place with...

«Ryuuzaki, » Raito started saying, thinking that his best course of action was to question the detective himself, and gather some information about his new situation. He was intent on asking L about the status of the Kira investigation, when something behind Ryuuzaki caught his eye...

«...huh...? » the chestnut haired boy muttered. He immediately stopped moving, trying not to even breathe too loudly. His eyes became adhered to the object of his attention. Because on the wall behind Ryuuzaki's unkempt ebony tresses, hanging over the bedpost, was a puppet with porcelain smile.

«Unusually eloquent this morning, Raito-kun» he heard the detective's caustic comment but completely ignored it, too focused to care.

«You...» Raito started, his eyes running over the trickster smile of the marionette, its glassy ciel eyes, the platinum blonde tresses and the tacky gothic Lolita apparel. He averted his eyes almost immediately, letting them fall upon Ryuuzaki's intrigued face. «Ryuuzaki» Raito started, with a rather threatening tone «Did you put this here? ». Somewhere, in the more sarcastic part of his mind, Raito noted that when Ryuuzaki was insulted, he looked a bit like the kid in the Big Ben photo.

«I beg your pardon. » the black-haired man started, his toneless voice betraying nothing of his indignation. His black hair – that hateful, disgusting batch – floated around his nape as he turned to look at the doll as well «If I recall correctly, Raito-kun was the one who ardently supported the instalment of the contraption. »

But Raito wasn't really listening. His thought processes had all shut down completely by the time he'd seen the clock settled on the night stand. The clock, with its rhythmic ticking sound. It was pointing at ten minutes past five.

A long moment passed, when Raito didn't move, blink or even breathe. He just kept staring, unblinking. So the game was continuing, here. He'd passed some phase, obviously. After spending two months in his parents' house, only to have the entire ordeal end with a...a...he didn't even want to think about it...now he was transferred to this timeline.

Handcuffed to Ryuuzaki, in the Headquarter building. Up there, if they climbed to the roof, they'd probably be able to see a television aerial platform. Raito shuddered, internally. Just remembering about the entire ordeal, even vaguely, inevitably made him think of that black hair.

Hair which, coincidentally, were resting in tresses right in front of him. He kept trying to reassemble his thoughts, but he couldn't help it. The urge to strangle Ryuuzaki – even if he technically wasn't the guilty demon and he hadn't yet done anything too annoying – was becoming almost suffocating.

«Are you sure you're all right? » he heard the detective ask again, and only then did he realize that he hadn't spoken for a long time. Even so, he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts: flashes of information were running frantically through his head. The marionette and the clock were both here...and he was willing to bet that that doll would come alive every night, just as it had before in his parents' house. «You're stranger than usual. » the detective concluded, sounding sceptical and suspicious.

'You're one to talk.' Raito thought venomously, but resumed his analysis straight away. He'd had enough indirect verbal sparring with Ryuuzaki lately to last him and afterlifetime.

Apparently, this new torture process was also moving in stages. The first stage was over, and now he had passed to the next...right? But what happened that helped him progress stages?

He'd been transported right after Sayu's rape...what had been the instigator for that horrible incident? The earthquake? And what had been the stimulus for the sudden earthquake...?

Raito remembered, clearly as day, that he had touched the doll only a few minutes before all hell had started to break loose. Had it just been a stroke of bad luck, or were the marionette and the earthquake clearly associated?

And if he touched the marionette now...would the former episode repeat itself? Would he see someone get violated again...? He didn't really want to think about such a prospect.

Seeing as it was one of those rare times that Raito was unsure about the outcome of a situation, he gritted his teeth in frustration and decided to ask for advice. Ryuuzaki was a smart man, after all. He might offer Raito some much needed sensibility.

«Oi, Ryuuzaki» he finally asked, his tone careless, as though the subject meant nothing to him. It wouldn't help to have Ryuuzaki questioning his motives, after all. «Do you think there are coincidences in the world? »

A small pause followed, in which Raito turned to gage the other's reaction. Ryuuzaki was looking at him with his black eyes narrowed. And since they were sitting relatively close, the look appeared more offensive than usual. But Raito was not as intimidated as he might have been at a time.

«Is that a trick question? » a small, emphatical pause «Yagami-kun? »

Raito wasn't fast enough to suppress his flinch. The moment Ryuuzaki had said his surname, the auburn haired man almost started yelling automatically. Ryuuzaki's eyes narrowed further, obviously intrigued by this new, strange conduct. And, Raito should not forget, Ryuuzaki was still looking for clues that he is Kira. Seeing as Raito hadn't had his memories before, it had been relatively easy to sidestep Ryuuzaki's suspicion. But now...now, having already being caught by Near, he felt as though the name 'KIRA' was stamped on his forehead with bold red letters. He had to try and keep a colder composure around L, especially seeing as they were going to spend a lot of bonding time together, what with the handcuffs and all.

'...This is the last thing I wanted.'

«Do you? » Raito persisted, sidestepping the way he'd flinched before.

Still with narrowed eyes, and a thumb between his plush lips, Ryuuzaki finally responded, with his mechanical voice «I don't believe there is lack of correlation between events in this world. »

Raito stared at him for a moment more, and then turned back to the marionette, still hanging there, perfectly motionless, as though daring him to touch it and see for himself if another natural catastrophe would occur.

And he wasn't sure whether or not they had a basement in Headquarters.

«Neither do I. » he agreed. He felt more than saw Ryuuzaki turn and stare at him, with that familiar piercing gaze.

Raito decided that he should wait a bit more – reacquaint himself with the specific environmental conditions… and mostly with Ryuuzaki's annoying perceptiveness – before he tried to touch any other satanic dolls.

-

He knew he shouldn't have been bothered, but he still was. Well, it was only natural. He was in a room full of files, folders and computer screens and couldn't read any of them. Whenever Raito picked up any kind of readable material, be it a file, a book, a newspaper, or even a bleeding clothe tag, he still couldn't read a thing. They all looked like blank papers, in his eyes. This extended for the computer screens, of course. And whilst this had been a bothersome problem in his previous lodging, in the Kira investigation Headquarters it was a complete handicap.

So while Ryuuzaki was clicking away with his mouse – barely touching it, of course – or typing in extravagant speed on his keyboard, the only thing Raito could do was just sit there, staring at the white, blank computer screen in front of him like an idiot. What was the best course of action? To tell Ryuuzaki that he was losing his vision and suffer utter humiliation, or to just keep quiet and act like he was actually reading something?

The first time the Headquarters' main door had opened, to admit Watari and a tower of cupcakes, the only thing Raito could see behind it was a black, bottomless void. Apparently, the same rules stood in this place as for his parents' house. The Headquarters' front door was the 'end of the world' for him.

Everyone else could freely interact with the environment, except for him – as though he were a ghost. It was like a slice of his life had been taken, exactly from his memories, and represented here. He was willing to bet that if he ever attempted to walk through that main door then he'd find himself transported back to the bedroom with the marionette. Not that Ryuuzaki would ever let him walk that far on his own, of course.

Raito had also observed certain other things, in the mirror: for one, he obviously wasn't a teenager. He looked twenty-three, the same age he had been when he'd died. But this was entirely inconsistent with the real events in his life, since, in actuality, he'd been in this building with Ryuuzaki when he was eighteen years old. This new environment also shared something else with the former one. At five o'clock every morning, the clock would start moving counter-clockwise. Raito knew this because he had forcefully dragged Ryuuzaki upstairs, to the bedroom, specifically to verify this phenomenon.

The moment the clock began counting inversely, the marionette's eyes would start moving. Raito had specifically taken note of this, along with one other thing: Ryuuzaki, who, unlike Raito, was a part of this environment, appeared ignorant to these changes in the surrounding objects. Raito remembered the particular conversation they'd had that day:

«Look at the clock. » Raito had said, dragging Ryuuzaki forward when approaching the small night table. He'd wanted to search for the photo before, but he couldn't do it without Ryuuzaki noticing. Besides, he doubted it would be there anyway.

«Yagami-kun» Raito had learned to suppress his winces «I'm beginning to consider Matsuda-san may be right. There is now a probability of fifteen point two percent that our work really is taking a toll on your mental capacity. » a small pause to let the sarcasm sink in «A clock, Raito-kun? »

«Ryuuzaki...Just look at it, will you? » Raito said sourly, intent on having his constant anxiety justified by another observer. «There, you see it? » he asked immediately, when he saw the pointers starting to count counter-clockwise.

«Yes, it's fascinating. It indicates we've already lost seven minutes of precious investigation time. » L answered, with his wide eyes and mechanic voice, making Raito very nearly slap his palm on his forehead. It wasn't long before he realized that he wouldn't be getting anywhere with this. In Ryuuzaki's eyes, the clock appeared to be ticking perfectly naturally. Raito soon realized that Ryuuzaki couldn't detect any significant difference in the puppet either.

Seems as though Raito was the only one who could see...he wasn't hallucinating, was he?

'No, damn it! No!' He internally persisted, knowing that this confusion and uncertainty was part of a greater scheme. A 'competition', as the demon had put it. But a competition of what? The terms were unclear this time.

By now, the only thing he had succeeded in was to make Ryuuzaki look at him with increasing suspicion. Well, it couldn't be helped. He'd been posing questions about analogical clocks and Misa-shaped puppets. His co-workers were bound to think he was going insane. But the worst of all was that, since he couldn't read anything, he had nothing to do all day long, and he couldn't become integrated into his surroundings no matter what.

He doubted Ryuuzaki wanted to do anything except for work. Naturally, since Raito was an equal workaholic, he also would have enjoyed researching the investigation, if he could actually read something.

Nevertheless, Ryuuzaki's insomnia and passion about the case could be seen equally as a curse and a blessing, since the last thing Raito wanted, for obvious reasons, was to return to the puppet-infested bedroom at night.

But, as the chestnut haired youngster was doomed to discover sooner or later, the situation could and would get worse. Namely, the day Souichirou Yagami had first set foot in the building, looking composed and calm. As though nothing had happened, which, technically, it hadn't.

But still. That experience, albeit produced by a hallucination, had been very eye-opening for Raito concerning his father's true nature.

That day, upon seeing his unperturbed pervert of a father, the young Yagami hadn't managed to keep the fury bottled up. Knowing that he couldn't attack Souichirou in front of everyone else, and seeing as he didn't have the Death Note in his hands, he'd picked a cheap fight with Ryuuzaki just to vent his frustrations. And this time, he'd kept attacking with such vigour that both Matsuda and Mogi were forced to mobilize in order for the tussle, to be resolved. By the end of the match, Mogi and Matsuda had been pulling each – supposedly composed – rival away from the other.

Raito had still felt the indentation of Ryuuzaki's knee buried in his abdomen... but he had also still sensed the satisfactory collision of Ryuuzaki's neck with his knuckles. Souichirou had actually had the tars to march up to his son and admonish him for his 'despicable, uncontrolled behaviour'. By now, Raito wanted his Death Note so much that his fingers were practically itching. Ironically enough, it had been L who had diffused the tension, bringing everyone's attention back to the investigation tasks.

His suspicion of Raito, of course, had started amplifying steadily. Raito could now understand why: he'd spent all those hours impersonating Ryuuzaki during the interrogation that there were few elements of Ryuuzaki's point of view that he hadn't examined. The only part of Ryuuzaki that was completely unpredictable was, like with all humans, his emotional involvement. But, looking at Ryuuzaki now and sizing him up, Raito thought that Ryuuzaki probably didn't have any emotional involvement with anything, except maybe cream puffs.

Unfortunately, now that Raito carried all his memories – of life and death – with him, he was more volatile than he had been at the time he'd been handcuffed to L. Raito was aware that he'd become easier to shock, more likely to show his anger. He hated it that he was losing control this way...but being thrown and tortured repeatedly could change a person. And now, faced with the composed Ryuuzaki, who hadn't changed at all from what Raito remembered, Raito's degeneration was becoming more pronounced. He cursed himself. His entire life had been based on the principle of manipulation of words. When he spoke, he never spoke the truth. And if he ever was forced to, then he never spoke it with true sentiment.

It was an integral element of his personality – as it was Ryuuzaki's – to omit and distort the truth. To speak the truth, but not quite. To think and live with elision. And now he was failing this basic value, having become more straightforward and less subtle. This path would only lead him to more failure, he knew.

At least, a good aspect of this new reality was that, once again, he was rid of Misa. From what he had gathered from snippets of conversations, he had apparently split up with Misa in this reality too. She'd obviously 'sent him that mannequin as a breaking-up present'. How thoughtful of her.

Perhaps the strangest and most unsettling thing was that, even though there where surveillance cameras in her room and L never seemed to worry about her, when Raito looked at the surveillance screens of her room, he could never see her anywhere. As though she was…simply not there. Misa's absence, under the specific circumstances, was perhaps more disquieting than her presence. And why was the doll shaped like Misa, anyway? Was someone making a statement about Raito's relationship with her...?

'Is Misa doing this?'

And it all boiled down to the first and basal question, in the end: 'What is the goal of this torture? Why am I being put through this? The rape of my sister? It was traumatic, but not torturous...if not for that, then why...?'

He had to find out. He was the one who had to take the first step this time…that much had been established before.

When living in his parents' house, he'd lasted nearly two months. Now, he could hardly wait two weeks. There had been no change, and Raito was becoming more and more certain of what he had to do. Ten days after he'd first woken up under Ryuuzaki's scrutinizing gaze, Raito had finally asked the black-haired detective to let him go upstairs and get some sleep.

Whatever was going to happen - and Raito was sure that it wouldn't be nice – it was going to be better than just sitting there, doing nothing, seeing his father and wanting to strangle him. Besides, anything that would happen now probably couldn't be worse than what had already happened. Seeing his sister be raped by their own father in front of his very eyes was indeed a powerful experience, Raito had realized. He couldn't imagine something even more disturbing being presented to him this time around.

Feeling new conviction and having gained the will to end this – he really couldn't stand seeing Ryuuzaki eat another box of éclairs – he reached out to touch the doll's hand, ignoring the investigator's mystified gaze.

The porcelain blue eyes moved and focused on him immediately, even though it wasn't five o'clock yet.

-

The phones started ringing at eight o'clock that morning. Ryuuzaki had been sitting on his metallic chair, eyes transfixed on the screen and mouth munching on a chocolate bar with silver wrapping, while Raito had been sitting next to him, staring at a blank screen, waiting for something – anything – to happen.

Then, suddenly, the phone on Ryuuzaki's right started ringing – the intercom phone which was connected directly to Watari. Raito was jarred out of his musings when he felt the handcuff chain jingle and he turned just in time to see Ryuuzaki raising the phone, with that characteristic way of his.

It had taken time, of course, for Raito to reacquaint himself with these gestures that he had thought he'd never see again. On the one hand, the familiarity of Ryuuzaki's annoying presence gave him some peace of mind...but on the other, he was living under the constant strain of dealing with the eccentric detective's suspicion. He remembered how glad he'd been when Ryuuzaki had finally died...now everything was reversed once again. Seems like he'd never rid himself of this man's plague, not even in death.

But Ryuuzaki was the least of Raito's worries, for once. More importantly...

«Watari. » Ryuuzaki stated, without preamble. Raito couldn't clearly hear what the voice on the other end of the line was saying. The only thing he could note was that Watari sounded slightly distressed. Evaluating Ryuuzaki's calm reaction, Raito supposed it couldn't be something extremely important. It wasn't uncommon for Watari to call them when discovering some new clue. Besides, Ryuuzaki kept sending invoices to the old butler in order to acquire more sweets.

«What's going on, Ryuuzaki? » Raito asked, after a few moments had passed and Ryuuzaki still didn't seem to be reacting. When the detective heard his co-worker's call, he pulled the phone speaker away from his face and turned around.

«Apparently» he started, temporarily ignoring the phone and addressing Raito «Yagami-san has brought Sayu-san to stay with us in the Headquarters, since Raito-kun's mother was hospitalized this morning. » Ryuuzaki knew Raito's sister by name, seeing as he had 'thoroughly invigilated' the Yagami household.

«Sayu's coming here? » Raito said, unable to restrain himself and his surprise, along with the sickly feeling that suddenly gripped his gut. Sayu. «And you're going to allow it? ...my mom's ill? » He didn't seem to worry terribly about his mother's health, in contrast to any normal son. Ryuuzaki narrowed his eyes at this, but apparently overlooked it. Instead, he brought the phone back to his ear – but not close enough to touch his cheek – and spoke to Watari.

«Let Sayu-san inside...» he started, and Raito was amazed that the notoriously suspicious detective had allowed this so easily «But don't let her understand what we're doing here, or that her brother is with us. »

«I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that, Ryuuzaki» Watari's voice sounded robotic through the phone. Now that the old man was speaking more clearly, Raito could understand what he was saying. «Yagami-san has already informed her...»

Raito felt more than heard the black haired man's pale jaw click – he was probably weary of his subordinates' idiocy. «In that case, there is no choice but to detain her. »

«Detain her? » Matsuda, who was sitting nearby, repeated worriedly. Raito vaguely remembered the interest Matsuda had shown in his sister... But Ryuuzaki hadn't paused and was still speaking, so Raito didn't have much more time to ponder.

«...then take her to one of the monitored guest rooms...»

Raito wasn't paying attention. Thoughts were running through his head frantically. The situation was becoming derailed and Ryuuzaki was acting extremely out of character. Under no circumstances would he normally have agreed to allow an uninterrogated ex-suspect to enter this building. Something was wrong here...and the sudden appearance of Sayu...

In fact, the situation and Ryuuzaki's reactions were too strange, and Raito couldn't stop himself from recalling he had touched the doll only three hours earlier. Since nothing horrible had taken place yet, he'd supposed that he'd been wrong after all, and that the doll was not associated with anything. But now, Sayu was showing up...And Raito didn't like the implications of his father and Sayu located in the same place together anymore.

What if this was just another setting where he'd be forced to watch his father rape Sayu once again? Raito gritted his teeth, unconsciously. In that case, he wouldn't let himself be defeated this time – he'd surely prevent it from happening. And if he had to kill his own monster of a father to do so, then so be it.

'But if that's the case, then why bring me to this alternate reality? If my goal is to stop Sayu from being raped, then why wasn't I sent back to my parents' house, to repeat the whole sequence?'

Seeing the pale detective lower the receiver, Raito tried to clear his thoughts. There must be some meaning in these occurrences. They may seem independent from each other at first glance, but there must be some pattern that he ought to detect, before it's too late.

The main door opened and in came his father, followed closely by Sayu, who was looking shy and downcast. «Sayu! » Raito called, standing up immediately, dragging Ryuuzaki's hand along with him. Had Raito been paying attention, he would have seen Ryuuzaki's face acquire a look of intense curiosity as he watched the siblings interact.

«Onii-chan! » and her face seemed to light up considerably at the sight of her brother.

The mere sight of Souichirou near the girl made Raito's head pound. If that man even touched a hair on her head then Raito would-

«What's that? » Matsuda's voice suddenly, breaking everyone's concentration.

«What? » Mogi asked, right away. But Matsuda didn't have the time to specify, since, all of a sudden, a loud treble was heard.

«EARTHQUAKE!!! » someone shouted from the far left, when they all felt the ground begin to slip away. Raito's stomach suddenly leaped to his throat, as he realized that everything was repeating itself. First Sayu, then the earthquake. He'd been right! It really was the doll! He was now frozen in his standing position, watching as time became suspended around him, and everything started to move in slow motion. He knew what was going to happen now: the building...the building would-

The chestnut-haired man barely had time to register a cry before the ground started to tremble like a palpitating heart. His auburn bangs flew around his face as he dropped to the ground, barely managing to register a loud crash from his right: Ryuuzaki's metallic chair had also hit the floor. Various breaking and clattering sounds were coming from every direction, seeing as the files and folders that Raito couldn't read were crumbling. Then, Raito heard a shrill shriek coming from the direction of the entrance.

«Sayu! » he shouted in response, by now able to recognize those screams anywhere. His lying position, accompanied with the unstable ground and the rapidly deteriorating furniture, allowed him to catch only a brief sight of the girl and Souichirou as they collapsed on the ground, falling on one another. Raito saw red upon seeing them.

Frantically, knowing he wouldn't be able to walk steadily on his feet, he started hoisting himself on his elbows and trying to drag himself in the direction of his sister.

But, in his hurry, he'd neglected the chain and the person he was bound to. He hadn't managed to crawl even a little further before he met a heavy resistance. 'Damn Ryuuzaki, not being cooperative,' Raito thought. 'He's probably too scared to walk.' Turning around and fighting to discern the detective's blank face and white shirt, he gasped when he met a pool of red instead.

«Ryuuzaki! »

He was split in two: on the one hand, Sayu was still screaming, possibly being pulverized by rubble. But on the other, Ryuuzaki had somehow managed to bang his head on the metallic desk as he fell. In any case, there was a thin river of scarlet liquid streaming on the floor beneath his black hair, and his expression was the same as it had been when...

'When he'd died.'

Just the sight of that hair, combined with the blood, almost made Raito retch right then and there.

«Argh!! » someone cried, and Raito turned immediately. During this panic, he was also trying to find cover, since bits of plaster from the ceiling were already battering his back. But what he saw was even more crippling. The giant metallic «L» sign, which had been poised on the wall above the main entrance, was shaking precariously on its hinges. Raito's pupils dilated impossibly, as his vision skittered downwards, only to see that Sayu's frail body was located directly beneath the sign.

He cursed in his mind, realizing that he was immobilized as long as Ryuuzaki was unconscious. In a few seconds of indecision, during which the bottom corner of the 'L' sign became unhinged, Raito realized that he had no electives. With a violent jerk of his hands, he leaped backwards toward Ryuuzaki's body, hitting a chair with his back. Losing no time, he grabbed Ryuuzaki's bare ankle and pulled himself forwards, dragging himself nearer to the detective.

«This is your fault» he muttered in unconscious ears, as he heard more cries around him. Suddenly, a huge crashing sound echoed from the middle of the room, and Raito realized that the ceiling had started falling apart for good. And the biggest problem was that the blasted quake wasn't stopping.

Knowing that he'd have to act now if he wanted to separate his sister from their father, he grabbed L around the torso and pulled forward.

But the detective, predictably, was too heavy to be towed. Having no alternative, Raito gritted his teeth. He then looped one arm around Ryuuzaki's back and the other around the man's denim clad knees, attempting to stand up and carry Ryuuzaki to the other side of the room. But the chain wasn't facilitating the process, and the ground was shaking too strongly. And by now, entire chunks of the ceiling had collapsed.

«Ugh-» Raito groaned, and fell to his knees. It was impossible. He couldn't do it. Ryuuzaki was too heavy and the whole world was galvanizing. He had to find cover, now, before it was too late. Without further thought, he dove under the metal counter, which was supporting all the computer screens. By now, all this electronic equipment was breaking down; giving off dying sparks of electricity. Raito pulled the other man's incapacitated body as close under the counter as he could. He tried to avoid touching the detective's head, which was slick with blood by now.

«AHHHH!!!! » he heard a scream and squinted to see what was happening at the other end of the room. The «L» sign finally became fully dislodged, and tore the entire wall down as it fell. There was a blood-curdling cracking sound when the sign came in contact with the ground – obviously, it had fallen on someone.

Screams and yells echoed everywhere, along with the incessant rumbling of the earthquake, and Raito covered his ears. Then, a drowned, desperate cry of «Otou-san» echoed, and the youngster fought to discern what was happening. The next thing he knew, he saw his own father's body, bent in an unnatural angle under the sharp corner of a huge, metallic «L», with the upper corner of the «L» buried in his forehead.

'What!?' He thought, entirely confused as he watched Matsuda, who had hidden under a desk, be crushed by a wad of brick from the ceiling. 'How can he be dead?! Wasn't he supposed to...rape her? '

It wasn't stopping. What had started as a small panic quickly developed into a mass slaughter. The pieces of cement that had fallen had raised a cloud of dust, so Raito couldn't see what was happening on the other side of the room. But he was fairly sure that Sayu had been killed, sliced in two, just like the rest of them. He'd seen Mogi, who had been closest to the lamps, be electrified by a stray cable. It had possibly been the most chilling thing Raito had ever seen. Mogi's jaw and teeth had clacked like those of a moving skeleton; and his eyes, which had rolled backwards, had soon been scorched into two holes of oozing blood. Until, finally, his body had collapsed on the ground, dead.

More screams. They were all dying. Was L dead too – Raito couldn't tell right then. Was this his torture? Seeing people die and being left as the only survivor?

'Was this his torture?'

He covered his head, folded his body and waited for the world to stop falling.

-

He didn't know how long it had been since the earthquake was finally over. The building, amazingly, had not collapsed. Raito could only suppose that it was built in a specific resistant way. However the room was completely smashed. Everything was in ruins, littered by corpses here and there. There was still some debris falling from the ceiling, so it wasn't completely safe to roam around.

«ng...» Raito suddenly heard a groan, the only indication of life around him, and he turned, alarmed, to see Ryuuzaki wake up. One black eye opened first, followed by the other. Ryuuzaki blinked a few times, obviously incomprehensive but trying not to show it. Raito helped him sit up and almost laughed aloud at the sight the other presented, with his hair – sticky with blood – sticking up haphazardly, and his null-black eyes squinting.

«Raito...kun? » he murmured disbelievingly, eyes focusing first on the other man and then sliding over the ravaged surroundings. «What i-» Ryuuzaki started saying, but his pale forehead started sinking forward as though it had a barbell inside it, so he stopped speaking. He raised a long-fingered palm to hold his skull and Raito automatically touched the detective's shoulder, to steady him.

«Earthquake. » he said, as though it explained everything, which it did. A light of realization dawned in Ryuuzaki's eyes, but he made no other indication of understanding other than that. Instead, he turned around, observing the surroundings, probably evaluating the irreversible damage done to three years of Kira investigation. Upon seeing the corpses of their co-workers lying in bloody heaps, Ryuuzaki made no sound. Then after a while of staring at Mogi's crisped, scorched corpse, he spoke.

«Watari»

It was more a statement than a question. Had someone known where to look, which Raito did, they may have detected a tinge of imperceptible remorse, or sadness, in Ryuuzaki's voice.

Raito felt a chill grip his heart, since he'd heard Ryuuzaki use that tone only once before – the moment before he died. He quickly admonished himself for being so whimsical at this time of crisis. Rather than sit around and recollect, now was the time to think of his sister, his father, and the purpose of this episode!

Suddenly, there was a small rumbling sound from the far side of the room, from beyond the fallen computers and desks. Raito whirled around just in time to see a few pieces of cement rolling to the floor, just as a trembling human hand shot through the fallen debris.

«Someone's alive. » the detective gave the customary gratuitous statement, with a voice that sounded a bit hoarser than usual. Raito looked at him from the corner of his eye: the right side of Ryuuzaki's head was powdered with blood, and it was almost shocking to see that the pale shirt had also been dirtied. The detective's eyes were impossibly wide and his knees were clutched near his chest more firmly than usual. Raito had spent enough time in that body to be able to understand that Ryuuzaki probably wasn't feeling extremely sober yet.

More importantly than Ryuuzaki's comfort, however, there was the newcomer to consider. Who was the person who had managed to survive the catastrophe? His father, Mogi and Matsuda were out of the question, since Raito had seen them die with his own eyes. It might be some other member of the investigation. Or it might even be his sister, whose death Raito hadn't yet confirmed.

«C'mon» Raito muttered, crawling out of their metallic shelter. He was aware that it was still dangerous to wander around without a buffer against the falling debris, but what could he do? It was already a miracle that the person under the rubble hadn't died. If Raito didn't help them soon, they would die for certain, out of suffocation.

«Raito-kun» Ryuuzaki started, and Raito felt the chain pull him back. He gritted his teeth silently, and then turned around to face his nemesis. «We should wait until the environment stabilizes. » Ryuuzaki was wearing that look, the one he always had when thinking about risking his own life. It was ironically expected, of course, that Ryuuzaki, much like Raito himself, was extremely cautious of his own hide. Oh he was sad about people dying, to be sure. But he'd never give up his own life to save anyone. Under normal circumstances neither would Raito. It's just that he was prepared to do anything in order to escape this torture-nightmare. And if saving someone was what he had to do, then he would obey and be done with it.

«They will have died by then. » Raito answered, curtly and clearly.

«It's a shame, but it can't be helped» the detective shot back, his black eyes wide and hair haphazard. «If we go now we shall die too. Better one death than three. »

Raito could barely see a vein pumping frantically on the side of Ryuuzaki's throat, mostly because he'd been looking for it. Ryuuzaki's body temperature tended to become extremely heated at times of anxiety – Raito knew this from experience. This was proof that the detective was much more nervous than he was letting on. Raito revelled in this knowledge.

If there was one thing he had learned during the time of the nightmarish interrogation was that, unlike his previous suppositions, Ryuuzaki's body was exactly like that of any other human. Ergo, Ryuuzaki's sentiments were exactly the same as those of any other human – regardless of how much the detective subdued them. Raito was comforted by the fact that he'd finally managed to prove that Ryuuzaki could be affected, even though he'd proved it indirectly.

And now, Raito realized with a certain amount of relish, Ryuuzaki was scared. Scared out of his wits, probably. The room was smashed. The exits were blocked. The detective's precious machinery was irreparably destroyed, and his trusted crew were killed gruesomely. Now the notoriously unapproachable L was left isolated with the prime suspect. Raito was willing to bet that, being the world's best detective and all, Ryuuzaki had always manipulated situations from afar, but never actually been part of a crisis.

«You coward. » Raito spat before he could stop himself, the urge to punch Ryuuzaki overcoming him. Even though he had all his memories of being Kira, his anger at seeing Ryuuzaki's inner manipulative nature wasn't appeased. He'd always known that Ryuuzaki was internally a devious bastard. The only thing that pissed him off is that the detective would never admit it. «You're afraid of dying and that's all you have to say? »

Ryuuzaki just stared at him for a few moments. He opened his mouth as though to answer, but he was suddenly interrupted by a shaking, strangled voice.

«..chan...» a shrill, broken little sound came from the direction of the crumbled wreckage. The two quarrelling rivals stopped bickering immediately, turning to the direction of the ruins. The hand was know shaking violently, gripping anything it could. It was still being battered by small pieces of falling cement.

«...nii-chan...»

It only took milliseconds for Raito to make the connection between the petite, female hand and the crying voice. «Sayu! » he gasped immediately, and hoisted himself out of the shelter. He met some resistance from the chain yet again, but this time, having realized it was his sister in danger, he pulled Ryuuzaki violently forward. Ryuuzaki gave a small sound of surprise as he was manhandled. Raito couldn't really understand why – the detective should have expected it.

«Sayu...I'm coming to get you. » he called, walking towards the rubble. He tried to avoid staring at the multiple corpses that littered the surroundings. Mogi's corpse – fried to death. His father's body – stabbed by the humungous «L». Ryuuzaki, who hadn't been awake when all these deaths took place, was now observing each and every piece of information with ardour. Raito gave him credit for not flinching. He knew that, deep down, Ryuuzaki was probably feeling just as nauseous as he was.

«...onii-chan...» the weak voice tried again, and by now Raito had reached her hand. He took her palm in his own and held it strongly, feeling Sayu respond with a weak, but determined, tightening of her fingers. Good, at least she was aware.

«Onii-chan?! Onii-chan! Help me!! » her strangled tone called, much stronger than before, and Raito was temporarily at a loss as to how to free her. The pieces of cement she was buried under seemed impenetrable at first glance.

Raito looked around wildly «Hold on, Sayu.» he called, now feeling extremely protective of her after what he'd seen her go through, even if it was technically a hallucination. «I'll get you out. » he reassured her with a tightening of his hand on hers. Then he let go of her and stepped back in order better to observe the brick obstacle. He could see Ryuuzaki from the corner of his hand – the man was standing near the computers, staring at the broken, trashed screens and obviously lamenting over all his lost work. Raito ignored him for now and focused back to the task at hand. Namely, saving his sister. Perhaps that was the purpose of this hallucination. Keeping her safe from harm.

Raito kept looking at the fallen cement. The chunks were huge and there was no way he could remove them using only his bare hands... it was a miracle Sayu herself had survived. He'd have to find some other way. But time was passing and Sayu's precious air supply was becoming thinner and thinner. Five minutes had passed and Raito hadn't come up with anything knew. He'd located some metal poles he'd thought he could use as tools, but there was no way he could reach them or dislodge them from the fallen walls.

«Damn it» he muttered, unable to contain himself.

«Raito-kun» Raito jumped slightly from surprise upon hearing Ryuuzaki's voice. The bastard detective had come to stand right next to him, facing the terrible pile of wreckage under which his sister was dying. «It's too dangerous to upset the debris, or it might collapse even further and crush her. »

«You've got any better ideas? » a cranky Raito asked, suppressing his urge to rub his temples. Just as he finished speaking, he heard a sound from the ceiling. Realizing the danger and moving out of reflex, he dived to the right and pulled the detective with him, narrowly avoiding being hit a falling wad of brick.

«Normally, I'd suggest we dig» Ryuuzaki started, pretending the incident hadn't happened «But since it's not an option in this case...» his black eyes looked pointedly at the metallic floor «I'd say our best chance is to move the upper plaques just enough for Sayu-san to move, and then pull her outside before the rubble worsens.»

Raito almost couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes «So you reach the same conclusion but with more words? » Not waiting for Ryuuzaki to answer him, since his sister's time was running out, Raito turned to the nearby wall and pointed at the metal poles sticking out of it «We need one of those. » he ordered, all pretence of politeness gone.

He ran toward the poles, feeling Ryuuzaki follow him. When Raito heard a groan from behind, he immediately turned around, seeing Ryuuzaki holding one of his feet in one hand and closely inspecting it. Sure enough, there was a screw buried in the detective's naked skin, right beneath his big toe.

«Serves you right for not wearing shoes» Raito simply said, waiting for a neutral-faced Ryuuzaki to take care of it.

«It's much more comfortable…under normal circumstances. » the detective answered and, with a soft grumble, pulled the nail out of his foot. There was some blood, but Ryuuzaki didn't seem troubled, so Raito didn't press the matter.

«Watch out! » Raito called suddenly, seeing a chunk of the ceiling dangling precariously a few meters away. It would be very unfortunate if Ryuuzaki were to die now – Raito would be forced to drag a dead weight around all day long. «We have to hurry. »

Not much was said after that. They both sprinted toward the wall – Ryuuzaki now extra careful of not stepping on anything inconspicuous.

They were soon faced with a new problem, however.

The metal rods were located in a crevice of the crumbling wall, but neither man was tall enough to reach them. Seeing as the detective was the more flexible and Raito was the stronger of the two, it was decided that Raito would hold Ryuuzaki up as the detective would reach for the instruments.

«Have you got them yet?! » Raito shouted. He was bent over, with Ryuuzaki standing on his back. It was by no means a comfortable position.

«No, Raito-kun...a little higher? » came the composed and infuriating tone.

«Yes, well...» Raito started, and tried his best to raise his body without throwing Ryuuzaki off «Now? »

«Just a moment...» Raito patiently waited. But when more than a moment had passed and he'd heard no satisfying clinking of metal, he groaned. Damn that inept creature. And he was heavy as hell too, even though he didn't look it.

«Ryuuzaki! »

«I'm trying, Raito-kun. »

«Try harder! »

«Don't be insistent, Raito-ku-»

«Ryuuzaki! »

The cling of metal finally came, and Raito saw three metallic poles dropping on the floor, alarmingly near his body.

«You did that on purpose, didn't you? » Raito spat, referring to the fact that the poles had narrowly missed pulverizing his head.

«I couldn't support that weight, Raito-kun. »

By now, Raito had realized that any attempt to reason with Ryuuzaki would lead to sure failure. He wasn't all that remorseful when he suddenly stood up, launching Ryuuzaki off his back. Thankfully, Ryuuzaki was flexible and had fast reflexes, so he didn't drop to the floor like a complete sack of potatoes.

«...that hurt. » the detective concluded in candour, with an entirely expressionless face that could provoke zero sympathy whatsoever.

«More importantly, my sister! » Raito said, grabbing two of the metal rods and handing one to the detective, who had stood up by now. He didn't want Ryuuzaki to find some way to hurt him in return – his back was already aching.

They ran back to the pyramid of ruins, under which Sayu was shaking and suffocating. They hadn't been more than seven minutes, in total, but they still had to hurry.

«Quick! » Raito instructed, unable to quench his commanding nature at a time of crisis, even though he knew Ryuuzaki disliked being bossed around. He started using the metal rod as a means to violently sweep the debris – which would have been dangerous to handle with bare hands – away from the pile. «Start from the top. »

And so they worked. Ryuuzaki, as he had once claimed, was indeed 'rather strong'. They were trying not to step on the pile, just to use their tools – or any other object they could find – to swipe the smaller pieces of cement away. As they got rid of the smaller parts and reached the level of Sayu's hand, they had to deal with larger pieces. They were eventually forced to use their bare hands, but were very careful not to let any protruding nails pierce their palms.

«Be careful not to strike Sayu-san by accident. » Ryuuzaki advised when they were removing rubble that was near Sayu's hand. The problem was that they had to keep the level of the debris even at all times, since; otherwise, it might collapse further and hurt the girl.

«Sayu! Hold on! » Raito shouted at some point, when they were getting close. It was a miracle that no debris from the decomposing ceiling had struck them yet.

When they finally caught sight of her face, frightened, tear-stained and desperate, buried in a small crevice of darkness, she smiled brokenly and cried «Onii-chan! »

«Hold on! » he answered. It took a few more minutes until she could move her upper body freely. Now only her legs were buried. Ryuuzaki's flexibility was of use, since he could bend and move pieces of cement from different angles. It took some more time until her body was completely released. But by now, since they'd focused on freeing her, the surface of the pile of rubble had become uneven, and there was real danger that it would collapse again.

«Quickly» the detective's instructed, with his voice just as monotone and calm as always «Pull her away. »

«Sayu, can you walk? » Raito urgently asked, holding Sayu's forearm and pulling her toward him. The girl shook her head desperately and clung to her brother. But the rubble was shaking precariously behind her. At this rate, it was going to fall and bury them all.

«We have to move. » Ryuuzaki said again with a slightly louder tone – which still betrayed nothing – and stepped backwards. But, ironically, his favourite handcuffs prevented him from distancing himself from Raito.

«Easier said than done. » Sayu's brother said, more to himself than to anyone else. Thank God Sayu's feminine body was as light as a feather – unlike Ryuuzaki's – and Raito could easily gather it in his arms. Gingerly, he carried her away.

But by now, as a result of their dismantling the central ruins, the entire floor was littered with pieces of cement. They could barely navigate around the fallen wrecked walls and there was no question of exiting the room – all the doors were blocked. As if that wasn't enough, with Sayu's removal, the pyramid of rubble lost its basic support and started to clatter. A rockslide would soon follow.

«This way, quickly. » Ryuuzaki pulled on the chain to catch Raito's attention, and the chestnut-haired man could recognize the detective's anxiety even without seeing his expressionless face. As he ran behind Ryuuzaki, with Sayu's arms wrapped around his neck, he could see the taut lines of the detective's shoulder blades beneath the white shirt. This was the only visual proof that Ryuuzaki was under stress.

«Ahhh!!! » Sayu's high-pitched scream echoed around them. They all felt more than heard the debris collapsing behind them. Raito had barely dived behind the solid boulder-like piece of wreckage that Ryuuzaki had led him to, before the central source of danger in the surroundings released its anger.

As the horrible sounds clattered around them, they could only hope that their weak temporary shelter would be enough to protect them. Raito felt his sister's small, slim hands grasp his nape and hold on, as if her life was hanging on a thread and he was her only beacon of salvation.

But Raito's attention was on his left, where Ryuuzaki, with the dried blood covering the right side of his face, was leaning his head against the cement. The detective's eyes were closed, for once – the thick black eyelashes fluttering stark against the pale skin. The line of his jaw was sharper than usual – it was clenched. A quick perusal verified that the long fingers were almost digging into denim-clad jeans – he was gripping that hard.

'So this is what Ryuuzaki looks like when he's scared,' Raito thought. But instead of the pleasure he expected to feel upon seeing the arch of Ryuuzaki's sparse eyebrows, he felt...a kind of...

Ryuuzaki looked different when he didn't have any excuse to flaunt his intelligence. He looked… almost human.

'His skin...kind of looks like that of a woman.'

The thought was so sudden that it took Raito by surprise. He just sat there, not realizing that he was staring, too surprised by his unexpected discovery. That expression on Ryuuzaki's face wasn't the usual neutral one. Raito didn't know why it was different, or how...but somehow, in that moment...

'He looks...defenceless. '

Helpless. Suffering. Yes, Raito had often wished to see Ryuuzaki's black eyes wide with desperation... But the satisfaction of this triumph had always been denied. Even when he'd actually died, Ryuuzaki hadn't looked exactly desperate – he'd looked self-satisfied. He hadn't given Raito the pleasure of seeing a broken, devastated, frightened face. After that, with the appearance of L's successors, Raito's sense of loss had been heightened. Raito had thought that he'd feel better once he'd see L's devastated face – that he'd feel like a conqueror.

But, actually, Ryuuzaki's defenceless face looked much different than Raito had imagined.

A vibration ran through the cement which was protecting them, signifying that rubble was falling against it from the other side. They were possibly moments away from utter destruction. The muscle in Ryuuzaki's jaw pumped and the slim tendons on his throat convulsed. He was afraid. That's what he looks like when he's afraid. He is afraid. Raito knows this, because he's been in that body. He knows Ryuuzaki can feel fear.

Sayu was screaming in abandon by now, supporting herself on anything she could.

And Raito was frozen, still staring covertly at his left. Ryuuzaki still hadn't opened his eyes. His lips seemed a bit…softer…than usual…

'He looks...'

But, even though he'd wanted to, he'd never actually seen it until now.

-

They sat there, unmoving, for a long time after the artificial rockslide had ended. Finally, after the massive destruction, the ceiling had stopped crumbling. It was understandable, since, if it crumbled any more, then the whole building would collapse upon them.

The time that had actually passed must have been shorter than Raito thought. But the entire ordeal seemed to have lasted for centuries. Now in the quiet of relaxation, Ryuuzaki had reopened his eyes and resumed his customary neutrality. Raito had immediately dismissed his former strange thoughts – he'd clearly been delusional. Ryuuzaki was just...Ryuuzaki. Nothing more, nothing less. Out of all the people Raito had met, Ryuuzaki was the most annoying in practical matters. But even so, Raito respected his opinion the most – the detective was the best rival. Sure, Near and Mello had defeated him – but they had been two and Ryuuzaki had only been one.

'Ryuuzaki is ten times more powerful than Near ever was. Near only beat me with Mello's help...L almost beat me on his own.'

After the initial shock had passed, the crying had come. Sayu had kept wailing in Raito's embrace, doleful over their father's death. Raito couldn't bring himself to say even one remorseful word, much less spill a tear for that disgusting monster.

Thankfully, Raito was generally a composed man, so it wouldn't come as too great a surprise that he wasn't crying. Nevertheless, Ryuuzaki had been watching him with narrowed eyes. Given, Raito felt slightly annoyed at his sister – she was making him lose face in front of a respected rival. He didn't want L to see him patting her back awkwardly while she cried. It would make him look soft, in Ryuuzaki's eyes.

«It's cold...» Sayu finally whispered, after she'd cried her heart out. The renewed rubble had covered their father's corpse and a few others, but Raito still kept her away from the dead bodies. Nevertheless, he was quite sure that she'd witnessed Souichirou's death with her own eyes, just like Raito himself had.

«Indeed» Ryuuzaki said in response, his voice toneless, as though announcing the number of a car plate. Ryuuzaki's speech seemed to jar Sayu, making her twist in Raito's embrace.

«I'm sorry...» she said in a voice a little louder than a whisper «I didn't thank you properly for saving me before...» she let her statement trail on, a little shyly. Raito was overcome by vague annoyance at her slightly coy tone. He let her slip away from his arms, seeing as she didn't seem to be in need of comfort any more.

Ryuuzaki shrugged with his right shoulder, not looking at all out of his element. Of course. Raito remembered from L's interactions with Misa that, contrary to what one may have expected, Ryuuzaki was entirely shameless and just as rude as usual in front of females. He didn't have any inhibitions in any social contact, so he didn't appear at all reserved or shy. Just vaguely amused.

«Don't thank me, Sayu-san. » Ryuuzaki responded, seeing the girl's confusion at the fact that the stranger already knew her name «It was your brother who rescued you. »

«Thank you so much! » the girl said with a smile, aiming her words at both men. Then, she looked at Ryuuzaki questioningly.

«Um, if you don't mind me asking...who are you? » she said in a soft, polite voice.

Raito decided to take the situation in his hands «This is a frie-» he started saying, but was immediately interrupted by Ryuuzaki, who was looking at Sayu with his piercing, unblinking black stare.

«My name is Ryuuzaki. » he stated, as tonelessly as usual «I'm one of the subordinates in the Kira investigation...I work with Raito-kun. I've heard many things about Sayu-san from him. »

Raito grinned and nodded at her after a few moments, verifying his nemesis's words. However, he was actually annoyed. Did Ryuuzaki think he was as idiot, or something? He would never have told Sayu about L's real identity! Ryuuzaki didn't need to patronize him in everything. And now that Sayu was here-

And then, at that moment, Raito realized something.

Sayu, Ryuuzaki and he, Raito, were alone.

All alone.

Trapped in a wrecked room. Right after an earthquake.

It took only a few seconds for the gears to start clicking.

'Ryuuzaki...first my father...now Ryuuzaki? Is that it?!'

Internally, Raito was practically bursting brain cells by now. Was this his torture? Would Sayu be raped by Ryuuzaki next? The very thought of witnessing Ryuuzaki...it made Raito's arteries pump even harder, for some reason. He'd protect her no matter what! He'd stop it from happening.

Actually, he almost sat up and barked at Ryuuzaki to stay away from his sister right then and there...but Raito restrained himself. If he acted rashly, then he'd look like a lunatic and lose his chances of evaluating the situation logically. Ryuuzaki had never shown signs of...then again the same stood for Souichirou, until Raito had seen it with his own eyes. Perhaps Raito was just thinking too much...not. This alternate reality was unpredictable.

«Oh, is that so! » in the meantime, as Raito was lost in his musings, the girl nodded back at Ryuuzaki, who stared unresponsively back at her. If it weren't for the fact that Ryuuzaki had saved her, Raito sourly thought, she probably would have pegged him to be a 'weirdo', just like Misa had. Raito knew first hand that womens' logic was all the same. «I'm so sorry...I...all of this...I hope L-san will...be okay...» she floundered, not knowing what to say about the tragedy that had occurred around them. Raito was worried she'd start crying again and embarrass him further, but she suppressed it, obviously.

«I'm sure he will. » Raito answered under Ryuuzaki's scrutiny, extremely aware of the irony of the situation «He was in another part of the building anyway.» he smiled at Sayu's encouraged look «If we're lucky, he'll even find a way to alarm the police about our predicament...isn't that right, Ryuuzaki?» he asked, the lies flowing smoothly and readily.

«Of course» L returned without falter, looking at Raito intensely. Raito was suddenly reminded of a few errant thoughts he'd had earlier about some qualities of Ryuuzaki's face. Pfft. Ryuuzaki's face was as ugly as ever, as demonstrated by his unnatural eyebrows and odd cheeks. Would that man...could such a man...even imagine rape, let alone commit it? Raito felt nauseous as he wondered.

Then, Ryuuzaki turned to the girl with wide eyes. Raito was vaguely amused to see Sayu's unsettlement when faced with L's unusually expressionless face.

« There are alarm mechanisms in this building. » he stated «In a few hours, we'll be as good as rescued, I'm sure. »

Raito felt sick. He thought...he'd heard that phrase somewhere before.

-

«...is there anything to eat around here? » Raito's voice echoed through the twilight darkness. He was sure that at least half a day had passed. They hadn't yet eaten or drunk anything, and they'd soon become dehydrated, at this rate.

«Well, if I recall correctly, there was a mini-fridge underneath the main computer console-» Ryuuzaki started saying and Sayu appeared to be cheering up. However, her excitement was short-lived when faced with Raito's groan.

«Oh, that's brilliant.» he said blandly, not caring in the least by now if Ryuuzaki realized just how aggravated he was «So you're saying we're trapped in here for an indeterminable amount of time with nothing but a candy-store stash to keep us company?»

Sayu appeared almost comically confused, just as Ryuuzaki's black eyes blinked, as though taken aback «These are the only available nutrients in close vicinity...unless, of course, you wish to engage in cannibalism, Raito-kun. » he finished, with an owlish look. Raito felt his skin crawl just thinking about it.

«What about water? » he tried again, hoping for the best.

«There is some tea in the mini-fridge. » the neutral tone came.

«And nothing else? »

«Well, I'd asked Watari-» L's monotone voice stopped suddenly, as though the record had stuck. Raito's attention focused and he tried to discern Ryuuzaki's face a bit better in the darkness. L seemed to have a strange, twisted expression. As though he'd just been made to swallow something that wasn't at least ninety percent sugar.

Maybe Ryuuzaki really had… for Watari, who had supposedly raised him-

«But I'm sure there's nothing left. » Ryuuzaki finished, resuming natural speech as abruptly as he'd lost it. Sayu appeared puzzled, but Raito was more than puzzled: he was intrigued.

After a few moments of pensive silence on Raito's part, the chestnut haired man turned back to the direction of the smashed computers.

«Well...I don't think it will be that easy to get to that fridge, Ryuuzaki...» he muttered, seeing the dangerous cables that were flailing around said area «Got any other alternatives? »

«As I said, unless Raito-kun wishes to-» Ryuuzaki started, but Raito silenced him with a hand.

«Please respect my sister, and don't be rude. » Raito said, standing up. Sayu appeared more confused than ever by now.

«But if that's the case...» the amber eyed man concluded «Then the fridge it is. »

-

When one is hungry almost anything seems edible; even Ryuuzaki's endless piles of empty calories. They had gotten to the fridge, eventually, after a long adventure and a lot of bickering. Even Sayu had seemed to tire of their constant verbal contest at some point, so the two rivals had tried to work together more effectively.

It had obviously worked, and the fridge – no longer frosty, of course, since it was not connected to electricity – was resting near them, right where they could easily reach it.

But whilst Sayu was worrying about what they would eat after their food resources were dry and whether their rescuers would come, Raito was busy wondering exactly how this ordeal would end. Obviously, it was the same setting as before, with the only difference that the candidate rapist was not Souichirou but Ryuuzaki. Yes, the asexual, occult abomination of nature might actually try to rape the girl. And what would Raito do? He obviously had to stop it. That was his purpose here. It wasn't a torture, then. It was another competition – a competition he had to win in order to advance to the higher stage.

He had to prevent his sister from being raped. Now all he had to do was...wait. But wait for what? For Ryuuzaki to go suddenly insane and perverted, just like his father had?

L seemed to have picked up on Raito's pensiveness, and was rejoicing in being able to monitor the suspect's actions constantly – even more so than usual. By now, three days had passed. Three days of sparse nutrition, sparser mental stimulus and dying hope. As well as crippling anxiety from Raito's part. The fourth day had come.

This was it. The day he'd been waiting for. If suppositions were correct, Ryuuzaki would try to rape Sayu today, just as Souichirou had. Raito wondered whose cruel joke this was. Of course he knew that his father had been a pervert for even thinking of raping his own daughter. But Ryuuzaki? Where did Ryuuzaki fit in? Raito had already seen the worst of it last time, with his father. Changing the scenery and including Ryuuzaki was a bit superfluous, really.

The point was made. His torture was to witness the rape of his sister. But why change the setting? What was the purpose? Shouldn't he be feeling more tortured?

The room was entirely silent, as the trio sat there. The blue-white light that was coming from various cracks in the walls gave a nocturnal air to the setting. When he looked at some dark corners, Raito could almost imagine that he wasn't surrounded by rotting corpses and annoying people.

«What do you think about Kira, Sayu-san? » Ryuuzaki's voice mentioning Kira startled the prime suspect. But by now, Raito was attuned to L's attitude toward Sayu. He wouldn't let that man approach his sister unharmed. Even so, right now, Ryuuzaki appeared not to be chatting anyone up – Raito mentally guffawed at the thought – but to be making small talk instead. Given, Ryuuzaki making small talk was strange in itself. Perhaps he wanted to interrogate Sayu and monitor Raito's reactions now that he had the chance.

«About...Kira? » the girl asked, surprised. Their starvation had induced all of them in a state of half-coma, where they talked and moved lethargically.

«Yes. » Ryuuzaki persisted tonelessly. Raito kept silent, wanting to see where Ryuuzaki was going with this. «Do you think he's doing the right thing by killing criminals? »

Sayu thought only a few moments and then answered honestly, with a clear look on her face that implied her thesis on the matter was made. «Of course not! Just because they're criminals doesn't mean they should die! » She thought for a few moments «Or, at least, we shouldn't be the ones to kill them. It's best if someone else decided who dies and who doesn't...if Kira truly exists...then I think he's no better than the murderers he's killing.»

Raito flailed in his mind, calling her a fool and a narrow-minded simpleton. He knew he should suppress his inner thoughts, seeing as the watchful eyes of Ryuuzaki were still near him. It wouldn't serve to start proclaiming his views again...the last time he'd done it, in front of Near, he'd ended up dead. Now, with Ryuuzaki, it could be even worse. In these instances, Raito conveniently neglected that he was already dead and didn't have much more to lose.

«Why, » Sayu started, jarring Raito out of his thoughts «What do you believe? » she aimed the question at Ryuuzaki. Suddenly curious and interested in the direction the conversation had taken, he turned to look at L with an inquiring stare. Sayu, as a proven innocent, would not be suspected for asking something so simple. Raito had wanted to ask that question too sometimes, since he'd never really known the answer. Sure, Ryuuzaki wanted to catch Kira...but was he doing it because he thought Kira was ethically wrong, or just because he wanted to beat the unbeatable?

Raito had always suspected the second, and that Ryuuzaki was too much of an egotist to care about ethics. He wasn't like Raito. Ryuuzaki, much like his favourite candies, was sugar-coated, but filled to the brim with lies. Sure, he was a typically righteous detective...but Raito suspected that Ryuuzaki didn't like being a detective because he supported justice. He liked being a detective because he could prove himself smarter and more capable than others. What a selfish idiot. Raito had never been like that. Anything Raito had done, it had all been for a purpose...making a better, more just world-

«Me? » Ryuuzaki seemed surprised to be even asked such a question. Raito tried not to seem too eager to learn the answer. Sayu nodded, proceeding to clarify her thoughts.

«Yes. I mean, obviously you are hunting Kira down, so you're not a Kira supporter, but...what do you really believe? As a person? » she asked, with eyes too wide and clear to be false.

But Ryuuzaki was always untrusting, and crueller than he looked. He wouldn't trust a baby squirrel, let alone another human...that's what Raito had always thought about the detective's character, and he'd been right.

«Person...» Ryuuzaki repeated the girl's words, as though fascinated by the reference to himself as a human being with beliefs and not a computer. Then after a few moments of apparent evaluation and suspicion, as well as reflection of what he should say, Ryuuzaki continued «Well, Sayu-san... since the question of morals is very complex, I decided early on to keep only a simple rule. »

His black eyes flickered briefly to Raito and immediately slipped back to the girl, who was listening with rapt attention «The Law of Retaliation. » Ryuuzaki finished, and Raito mentally smacked himself over the head. He should have known that Ryuuzaki would be evasive and respond in the same way he always did. However, to Raito's surprise, Ryuuzaki actually elaborated that point. He was technically talking to Sayu, but Raito knew that the words were aimed at him.

«This law is very simple. 'An eye for an eye. A hand for a hand.' If you steal my bicycle then I shall steal yours. For me, this rule personifies justice, since justice carries with it a sense of equality. What is done to one is done to the other...there is balance. » L explained, his voice completely even and monotone, as always. His strange intonation and inflection was resurfacing clearly now that he was speaking continuously. Sayu seemed to understand the basic idea, but Ryuuzaki continued nonetheless.

«But there are cases, » he began, reverting his inflection slightly and imperceptibly moving his eyes toward Raito «that this rule does not apply. Cases like-»

«Murder. » Raito filled in, and Sayu turned to her brother, obviously having lost a beat. Nevertheless, Raito continued «If you kill someone, they can't kill you back. »

Ryuuzaki's eyes widened and became impossibly still on Raito's face – a sign of concentration «Indeed.» he kept staring for a while longer, until Sayu became uncomfortable and cleared her throat, jarring him back to reality. He reverted his black eyes back to her.

«Not only in a case of pure murder, but in some other events, the Law of Retaliation does not apply.» Ryuuzaki stated, looking at Sayu's nodding face now. «The situation in which the Law cannot be put into effect is a crime. In my mind, as a 'person', that's what I think. » L concluded, simply.

«That's simplistic of you, Ryuuzaki. » Raito said, in his airy tone. L turned his face slowly to align with the other's, watching Raito like a hawk and not showing any signs of disgruntlement at the suspect's words. «I know you said you base your moral beliefs on that Law...but is it justified to believe that the absence of this Law signifies crime? Why? Maybe the situation is special and the Law cannot apply to it...that doesn't mean that the situation is a crime. »

Ryuuzaki didn't make even the smallest movement. Raito thought he had even stopped breathing – so focused he was. Sayu had moved to the complete background of the conversation by now.

«If you move within the boundaries of the Law» Ryuuzaki answered solidly «That is, if you take something than can be also taken from you, then you indirectly recognize the existence of justice. I take your eye, and live with the fear of having mine taken out in return. » A small pause, in which Raito's heartbeat augmented to extreme levels «But if I take your life, I'm not working under a scope. I'm taking something from you and not giving you the chance to take anything from me. I'm being unfair by serving only my interest, uncontrolled and dauntless. I've become dangerous for other humans… A 'criminal'. »

Raito heard his sister swallow, and pondered upon the fact that he too was feeling as though the atmosphere had become much heavier. Even though Ryuuzaki's tone was as mechanic and bleak as always.

«And the victims of criminals can't achieve justice for themselves. That is when external factors should intervene. That is what I...'believe' about the Kira case. » the detective concluded and the siblings just sat there, both frozen in place. Ryuuzaki hadn't really answered anything clearly. But in a way, he'd answered everything.

«And what does Raito-kun think? » the predictable question came. And Raito smiled in his customary artificial calmness. As always, he didn't want either to agree or to reject Kira's actions, for fear of being suspected. Therefore, he decided on an abstract approach, much akin to Ryuuzaki's.

«I think that both Sayu and you, Ryuuzaki have a point. » he said, solidly «But on the other hand, I understand why Kira is gaining approval from certain people...In their eyes, criminals are a hazard to society and Kira is therefore a panacea. » he turned to his sister, finding it easier to focus on her than on Ryuuzaki when lying «I also think Kira is a criminal for causing the death of humans. But I understand, on the other hand, why he might be seen as a lesser criminal than others. »

«But some of those who Kira kills» Ryuuzaki's voice sounded, forcing Raito to turn towards him in the semi-darkness «are being punished disproportionately to their crimes. Kira may be justified in murdering murderers, but what of those who have committed lesser crimes? »

«Kira doesn't kill them. » Raito answered a trifle faster and more quipped than was prudent.

«I beg to differ. What of the rapists? » Raito was immediately struck by renewed suspicions about Ryuuzaki raping his sister. But before Raito could answer anything, Sayu intervened.

«Please! Onii-chan...Let's not...Let's talk about something else, please...? Otou-san just...and who knows if this is Kira's doing? »

And Raito was forced to pat his sister's back, displaying what a caring brother figure he was in front of the detective.

«Of course, Sayu...» he muttered, nodding his head toward Ryuuzaki, who retained his usual neutrality. Although, judging from the slight intensity of Ryuuzaki's fingers as they clutched his knees, the detective might have been put off to disrupt the flowing – and entirely too informative – conversation. Before Raito could say anything else, the detective spoke once again, in a voice slightly deeper – maybe even more pronounced – than usual.

«Most likely it's not Kira, this time. » he simply said «If it were I wouldn't still be alive. »

And Raito paid attention to the fact that Ryuuzaki had used the singular, not the plural. Once a suspect, always a suspect then, eh?

Even in death.

-

By now he was eager for the episode to come to a denouement. Honestly, he was getting sick of feeding only on Ryuuzaki's chocolate tarts. Most importantly, he was fed up with waiting for something horrible to happen – namely, for Ryuuzaki to decide he was perverted and rape his sister.

Ryuuzaki. Who would have thought he'd have it in him. In retrospect, Raito could see how it might happen. He was willing to bet that, with that horrible face and posture, no woman had ever wanted to approach the detective, despite his being twenty-five years of age.

Wait. So Ryuuzaki was a virgin?! The urge to guffaw aloud almost overcame Raito, but he suppressed it, knowing how insane he would sound if he suddenly burst out laughing out of nowhere. But, truth be told, he'd never thought of that aspect of Ryuuzaki's life before. At least not in when he was alive.

Pfft! It was ridiculous just thinking about it. Raito had lived with his sister long enough and studied the simple psychology behind female flirting. And honestly, by female standards, Raito supposed his detective friend could never stand a chance. Women wanted cool men. Good looks and graceful movement were basic prerequisites, whereas wit and intelligence were secondary. With that plot laid out, Ryuuzaki was at a clear disadvantage.

Yes, Raito could actually see it very clearly now. Ryuuzaki would finally flip, not having been with a woman in his whole life, and he'd try to rape Sayu in a fit of hormonal insanity. Perhaps these episodes of rapes were not exactly hallucinations – they were alternate realities, Raito concluded. They were situations in which peoples' true desires and motives were brought to the forefront. Like with his father. Who would have known Souichirou was a...a monster of that sort.

At least Ryuuzaki would be justifiable...well, understandable if not justifiable. Raito had never been particularly entranced by sexual issues – as he was sure Ryuuzaki wasn't either – but he too could possibly be driven to insanity if he never, ever had slept with a woman.

But Souichirou...there was no justification for-

And then it hit him. Raito froze. It started as a chill at the base of his neck, and then spread out to his hands, his nerves. Heat started to hit his brain with increasing speed, and it took a few more moments than usual to realize that it wasn't heat – it was his blood, running faster than usual. And then, before he knew it, it was happening.

Now?!

«Raito-kun...are you all right? » Ryuuzaki had been sitting closest to him. Raito was sitting against one wall and Ryuuzaki against a piece of cement opposite from him. Sayu was a few feet away, sleeping peacefully, curled in a foetal position and with her back to the two rivals.

«...of course. What...» it took more effort than usual to speak, since he was aware that, if he wasn't careful, his voice may come out strangled. «...makes you ask? » he finished. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with him!? Now was not the best time for- Oh, it was probably because he'd been thinking about stuff like that so much. Well, anyway. A few more minutes of thinking about swallowing Ryuuzaki's black hair and it would completely go away. It happened periodically anyway, as with most young men. And Raito knew that he was a relatively composed person, so it would go away faster.

Thankfully it was darker then before, since it was the evening, and there was no chance anyone would notice. More importantly, he had to keep an eye on Ryuuzaki, just to make sure anything untoward would happen.

«Nothing special. » Ryuuzaki answered, with his leisure voice. In the utter darkness, Raito could barely discern the detective's eyes, which blended in with surrounding blackness. Ryuuzaki was still looking at him, that was to be sure. Perhaps even more intensely than before. «You just seemed a bit tense. »

Oh, wonderful. This was exactly what Raito didn't want – drawing attention to his person, under the circumstances.

So Raito waited, and waited...and waited some more. But it wasn't happening.

What the hell is wrong with me?

And the more time passed, naturally, the greater the nag became. His heart began to palpitate unnaturally and he could practically feel his face heating up. And Ryuuzaki was right there, watching him, which was not helping much. The fact that Raito was getting hot and bothered under a supreme detective's nose was not only unexplainable, but entirely risky.

As the hours dragged torturously by, Raito's thoughts began to narrow more and more. And even though he'd been aware of all sounds in the room before, he couldn't hear anything else now save for the increasing beat of his own heart, and the thundering of his blood in his ears. The bloody trousers. They were rubbing against him, and that was the worst. The friction of his jeans against his burgeoning erection was working in positive correlation with the level of his arousal.

Ryuuzaki's right there! Right there!

He could feel sweat poring from his hair and sliding on his back. The bloody drops were slipping on his skin so slowly that it felt as though they were human fingers. By now, all thoughts of monitoring Ryuuzaki's actions were evading him. He kept trying to remind himself all the reasons why this was extremely wrong and abnormal, but reason seemed to be in short supply. And the worst of it was, Ryuuzaki was watching him like an eagle, monitoring and evaluating Raito's every action. In the darkness the detective wouldn't be able to see much, of course, but that didn't alleviate the problem.

Unable to contain it, Raito heaved a few breaths, practically panting. He actually closed his eyes and arched his back to lean better against the wall. God, he hadn't been this aroused since...since...well, ever! After his heavy breathing started, Ryuuzaki's voice immediately broke out of the dark, lashing out like the tongue of a snake, as though to remind Raito that he was under constant fucking surveillance.

«Raito-kun...? »

«I'm fine. » Raito said, perhaps a little faster than usual. He'd almost cursed Ryuuzaki to oblivion. This was a bad situation. An entirely horrible situation. Before he knew what he was doing, Raito felt the tips of his fingers grazing the inside of his own left thigh.

Shit!!

He pulled his hand away as though burnt, consequently making the handcuff chain jingle. What the hell had he been trying to do!? He was handcuffed to someone! It wasn't an option, however badly he needed it. There was a noise heard, as though Ryuuzaki was going to say something else. But apparently, he thought better of it and closed his mouth once again, since Raito heard nothing new.

Raito sank lower in his seat. He was a relatively tall man, so his thighs looked long when bent. He supported his wrists on his knees and leaned backward, trying to calm down.

Perhaps another hour had passed. He was burning. Everything was burning, save for his fingertips, which felt numb and frozen. By now, he was trying – and failing – not to pant. He couldn't see well in the dark and he didn't dare touch it in front of Ryuuzaki – even if Ryuuzaki couldn't see him – but he was willing to bet that he'd never had an erection that big. Even when Misa had-

Oh no!

The mere thought of Misa and what he'd done with her – on special occasions – sent him into another fit of convulsions. He was not going to rest with this, he knew that now. He had to find a way to go and...do it. Really fast, really hard. It wouldn't take much more than two or three minutes, he knew. But he was tied to that god-damn Ryuuzaki. He couldn't do it while wearing handcuffs or the whole world would know!

I can't believe this is happening NOW!

But it was happening. And he was panting by now, right out panting, like a bitch in heat. It was disgusting and vaguely reminiscent of something, but he couldn't remember anything clearly.

«Raito-kun. » the voice stated, and Raito was actually amazed to hear it, having almost forgotten that Ryuuzaki was there in his frenzy. Had Raito been more sober, he may have realized that the detective's voice was not as entirely toneless as usual...there was actually a tinge – minuscule tint, mind you – of sympathy in it. Ryuuzaki appeared slightly more...gentle than usual, if that was even possible for a man like the cold investigator. «Are you in pain...? »

Raito made a strangled kind of noise, unable to help himself. No voice was actually coming out. If he tried to speak, he might growl...or worse, moan.

Suddenly, a muttering sound was heard from somewhere on the right. It was a soft sound...it couldn't have been Ryuuzaki. Raito froze at the soft female voice which rung, like clear water.

«..ng...Onii-chan...? »

Raito started shaking all over in the darkness. His legs started shaking, his teeth chattering and his nails scraping on the floor. The mere sound of the voice was causing his nervous system to break down.

«Sayu-san-...»

Raito heard the male voice speak, but couldn't focus on what was being said further than the first few words. It was...Sayu...Sayu...his sister's voice. His sister. He was...and it was his sister! This was impossible; it couldn't be happening...it was impossible. Impossible!

«Nee, onii-chan, » Sayu started, but she never managed to speak any further, because Raito cut her off, unable to hear her voice anymore without shivering from arousal.

«Sayu shut up! » He practically barked. His voice had come as sudden and harsh as a slap in the face. Especially when compared to his customary, relatively calm, sweet tone he now sounded like a barbarian. Desperately trying to calm down, he banged his skull on the wall behind him. He felt more than saw the others slightly jump in surprise.

That was when he focused on it. The outline of her body...it was unholy. Even through the shadows of the room, he could feel the curves beckoning to him. But...but...

What the hell am I thinking!? She's my sister!! My sister! If I keep this on, I'll be worse than my father!

He opened his eyes wide, suddenly unable to breathe.

My father...my...and then Ryuuzaki...

But it wasn't Ryuuzaki, was it? It wasn't Ryuuzaki who was going to rape her this time.

It wasn't Ryuuzaki.

It was him.

«Ryuuzaki! » He suddenly barked, uncaring of how harsh or unrefined he sounded. He needed to stop this. Right now. Right now! «You have to release the chain. » Raito panted uncontrollably.

«Raito-kun, you know I can't-» the patronizing tone wrung, but Raito was too aware to care.

«Listen to me, you fool! » he cursed, uncaring of how he might sound and practically seeing Ryuuzaki's eyes widen through the darkness «You have to open the chain now, or we'll all be sorry! » He couldn't bring himself to say it. To admit that he couldn't control such a fundamentally human desire in front of Ryuuzaki, the intelligent and untouchable rival, would be equal to admitting defeat!

«Onii-chan you-»

«Sayu shut the fuck up!! » Raito literally shouted. Every time she opened her mouth it practically felt as though he was going to explode. And with every passing moment, her body looked less like the uninteresting average thing that it was and more like the pillar of an ultimate orgasm.

It was going to happen. He couldn't control it – it was beyond human measure. God…was this what his father had felt like? Was this-? What was--?

Was this my torture?

«Yagami-kun you're acting abnormal. What's wrong? » Ryuuzaki's voice, now fully authoritative, proclaimed and Raito realized that, by being violent, he was actually decreasing his chances of being released. So Raito did the only thing he could think of in order not to stay close to the girl for another second.

He stood up, with great pain to be sure, and dragged himself violently towards a direction away from them. Due to the chain, Ryuuzaki inevitably had to follow. Thank God everything was dark and no one could see the depth of Raito's predicament.

The man almost sprinted – as fast as possible, given the circumstances – away from the others, hearing Ryuuzaki following from a couple of meters behind. Then, finally. He found an indent in the wall which would partially conceal him from Sayu and hide him behind it. Ryuuzaki arrived a few moments later.

«Yagami-kun, I don't-» at times of anger or suspicion, the detective always reverted to second name basis. It obviously gave him a feeling of referring to people as organs or suspects...and not as human beings.

«Ryuuzaki, » Raito laid his palms on the other man's shoulders, mostly to support himself and pant. But because it was too dark and his hands were fumbling, one palm landed on Ryuuzaki's cheek instead. Through his haze of lust, he realized that Ryuuzaki, strangely enough, had...very sof...

«Ugh...» he panted, and let his hand slip from Ryuuzaki's face on his shoulder. If he didn't calm down soon enough, he'd start groping anything on two legs. He had to resolve this situation fast. Ryuuzaki would understand...he was a man, right? He must understand...Ryuuzaki would...would...

God, what will he think of me? That I'm...I'm...

A pervert?

«Listen...» he gasped the word, through pants «I need some privacy. »

Even in his own ears, it sounded much more horrible than he had thought it would. But if he was lucky, Ryuuzaki would just pass him off as a late bloomer...not a complete pervert...hopefully.

It took a few seconds, which, to Raito, felt like an eternity. Then, finally, finally, Ryuuzaki spoke.

«For what reason? »

Raito gritted his teeth. He didn't have time for these mind games now. His palms were sweating as they clasped Ryuuzaki's shoulders, and he felt his knees bending from the force of the arousal. The only thing he could think of, unfortunately, was sharp and pliant objects merging. And Ryuuzaki's incomprehension was the last thing he needed. It might have been dark, and it might have been impossible for Ryuuzaki to see Raito's predicament...but it was truly unlikely that the extremely perceptive detective had not detected what was happening.

«You know what reason! » Raito finally bit back breathlessly. He was going mad. If he didn't do it now, it felt as though his entire spine would crack.

«I'm not certain. » Ryuuzaki persisted, his tone completely devoid of all sympathy or emotion he might have had before.

This bugger wants to make me say it. Raito realized with a chill. The fact that Ryuuzaki's body was exhibiting warmth was not helping. Raito removed his hands immediately, when he realized that Ryuuzaki's soft shirt was serving as a distraction from Ryuuzaki's actual words. Just when Raito was about to flounder ineffectively for some other excuse, a song, melodious voice was heard from the far right.

«Onii-chan...? Ryuuzaki-san? » The girl called «Is everything all right? »

«Get her away from me...» Raito leaned back on the wall behind him, covering his face with his hands «Ryuuzaki...! » There he'd admitted it. Complete humiliation. He was a pervert now. In Ryuuzaki's eyes, he had become a-

«Very well. » the deep male voice concluded, not showing any signs of disgust or unsettlement. The next thing Raito knew, Ryuuzaki had plucked the key from his pocket and was unlocking the handcuffs.

It took a few torturous moments, and the Ryuuzaki was gone. Just a few more minutes. He wouldn't fail, like his father. He'd make it! He was now sure that this was what he was required to do! Refrain from raping his sister! This was his torture!!!

The moment he heard Ryuuzaki's voice speaking to Sayu, Raito dropped to his knees. Without preamble, hands and knees shaking, he unzipped his pants and devoted himself to the task. His father had probably failed at this...that was why he'd ended up raping her. That was why-

I should never have blamed...I didn't know-

For the first few moments, Raito felt a relief unlike any other wash through him. Now it would only take a few caresses until it was all over. He braced himself and prepared for it...

But it wasn't coming. It wasn't. And the more he tried, the less it worked. Until, finally, after so much time of trying furiously, he couldn't even feel his own touch. It was as though...as though...

This is demon-work! He realized, suddenly crippled. He might as well have been touching a block of wood for all the good it did him. It wasn't reacting – he couldn't finish it. And the more he tried, the worse the arousal got. Until, at some point, reaching a peak of literal torture, he thought that if he didn't do it, he'd die. He'd forgotten all about the reality of the situation by now. The only thing he could remember was that there was a woman, and she was close, and she was waiting for him. In the back of his mind, he knew that what he was doing, and thinking of doing was completely wrong, but he couldn't stop himself.

Within seconds he launched himself away from the small hideout and walked back to the place the others were sitting. He vaguely recognized they were speaking, but could hardly even discern what they were saying.

I'm so sorry...I don't know what's happening!

I'm so sorry, Sayu!

So sorry!! I don't know...I'm going to die! I'm going to die!!

Until eventually, he realized that he wasn't only thinking the words. He was saying them out loud. His own voice sounded alien, withdrawn, choked. In the twilight of the room, the others were simply shadows. He could see Sayu stepping back, and the motion of her legs as she walked entranced him completely.

Then, suddenly, there was an obstacle between him and that divine liberation.

«Yagami-kun...calm down. » the voice was calm. Completely in control. It spoke of a man who is untouchable, who is not as pathetic as Raito himself.

«I'm sorry...I'm so sorry Sayu...If I don't. I'll die...I'll die» and he would. He would die. He felt as though his brain was about to split his skull in two. He just had to do it. He had to, or else the pain would never stop.

«Raito-kun...Look at me. You're not going to die. Look at me. » there was a light touch on his shoulders, as though a movement of support, and it almost felt like a bird's feathers.

«.Ryuuzaki..? Forgive me...»

He didn't know when he threw the first punch. But he could feel it clearly as Ryuuzaki's pale, blood-stained face came in contact with his fist. Before Raito knew what was happening, a bony ankle hit his ribs. But his arousal was too great. It made his nerves tingle, his nerves burst.

He caught Ryuuzaki by the side of the neck, like he'd grip a wild duck, and threw him to the side. As though the other man was an insect, a pest.

«O-Onii-chan...? » the girl's eyes were huge and innocent, gleaming with virginal light even in the darkness. The only thing it did was fuel his need.

«I'm sorry-» he choked, and bit his tongue in the process. He half expected Ryuuzaki's to attack him again, but no assault came. The most aware part of him wandered if he'd left the detective unconscious.

But by then Raito - with his eyes sharpened from desperation and need - had grabbed the girl's hand. After that, he knew not much else.

He grabbed her. His hands were entirely full of her. His aching arousal, killing him from inside out with its heat, was beckoning. Her frantic screams were only vague noises in the background, sounding more like silent calls than the uncontrolled shrieks they were.

In the back of his mind, he was aware of the wrongness of what he was doing. But there were words, whispers, egging him to continue.

'She's my sister; she'll understand that I have no choice'.

'It's just one little time, what harm can be done'

And at the same time, another part of him was shivering in humiliation, aware of what he was doing. The humiliation was strong. Much stronger than the remorse. How could he have fallen to this? How?

Flinging her to the cement-wrecked floor, he pillaged her womanhood in the worst possible way. And where he'd thought it would only last a few minutes, it seemed to go on for an eternity with one moment better than the next. He was hardly aware of his own body, or that he was moaning in pleasure as she was screaming in pain.

After the first few moments, even his own awareness faded. And the fact that, aside from the back of the woman's thighs, he could clearly see two black eyes, staring right at his face, seemed completely irrelevant at the time.

This must be my torture.

In fact, after the pleasure wreathed his spine the first time, he could think no more.

-

She was curled up like a foetus, staying absolutely still. Just like she had when...when their father had...She wasn't crying or screaming, and she wasn't calling him names. Nobody was calling him names. He sat in front of her, kneeling, but saying nothing.

Now that it was over, his body felt completely normal. Not especially vigorous, as would be the natural post-coital effect. He just felt back to normal, as though a double axe had stopped being rammed in his brain.

No amount of apologies was going to reverse the facts. He may be sorry, but who would believe him? Had he believed Souichirou when the father had said he was sorry? No. Then why should anyone...

Even so, for his own peace of mind, he felt that he had to...

«I...didn't mean...» he started, but it already sounded so stupid to his ears that he immediately stopped speaking. «I didn't...» A small sound, like a foot that is dragged on the floor, sounded from behind him and Raito froze. Like lightning, everything came back to him. Everything that had happened...Ryuuzaki had...he hadn't been unconscious. He'd...

Ryuuza...ki...

Raito turned around and, for once, his eyes were on the floor. How he must look, in Ryuuzaki's eyes. Like an uncontrolled beast – a pervert, who raped his own sister. A monster. Ryuuzaki, who Raito had considered the only person able to be his match...Ryuuzaki, would now...

He raised his eyes upward, meeting first Ryuuzaki's denim clad thin legs, then his narrow torso. And finally his pale smooth-skinned face, with the retched black hair and black eyes, which was devoid of all emotion.

Raito remembered what he had done when he'd seen his father raping Sayu. He'd thrown up. He'd called his father a monster. A pervert. He hadn't known...

He hadn't known.

And now...now Ryuuzaki was thinking for him whatever Raito had thought about his father that time...And Raito couldn't bare it. The thought that he was a...a...because that's what he was! And, worst of all, Ryuuzaki had...seen it. He'd seen everything. He'd been staring right at-

«...Ryuu...zaki...» he could hardly recognize his own voice, since it was shaking. Shaking and broken, much more so than it had been when he'd been interrogating a demon. Ryuuzaki's black, piercing eyes were staring at him, seeing through his soul. Seeing everything. Who he was. What he had done.

Pathetic, he heard the voices, whispering in his ears.

But Ryuuzaki was looking at him with the same neutral face as always, eyes completely blank, expression neutralized. He wasn't throwing up. He wasn't calling Raito names.

«...I'm...You have to believe me! » Raito suddenly exploded, taking the five necessary shaky steps to reach the other. But he was more startled when he saw Ryuuzaki take steps backwards just as Raito approached. «R-Ryuuza...» but Ryuuzaki did not respond. He just stared.

«I had no choice! » Raito erupted, not shouting but not keeping calm either. He took another step forward, toward the other, and stretched his hand towards Ryuuzaki's cheek. In a flash of desperation, he suddenly remembered how soft Ryuuzaki's flesh was, when it was touched by another person. Ryuuzaki looked at the outstretched hand, and then at Raito's face. His eyes were wide and still. He hadn't blinked for at least half a minute.

«Please...Please, believe me...» Raito said, realizing that his voice was actually shaking, and so was his hand. He had to make sure that Ryuuzaki had not lost all his respect for...if Ryuuzaki started to think that Raito was a pervert, then Raito didn't know what he might do!

«I never asked for clarifications, Raito-kun. Why are you telling me this? » Ryuuzaki then spoke, his voice just as even and emotionless like always. Like always. He didn't even use a surname – he didn't even bother. His wide eyes, combined with the careless voice, was more painful than any slap or curse word Raito may have received. But this...this was proof that... Ryuuzaki...didn't care anymore. In Ryuuzaki's book, Raito was dead. Written off as...

As a...

«The one you should apologize to is Sayu-san. »

Raito felt his knees and ankles weaken. Until finally, his legs gave out, and he collapsed, kneeling, in front of Ryuuzaki.

«Please...I've always thought we...that is...you...you'll understand that...» Raito gasped between his words, losing himself when facing Ryuuzaki's completely blank, emotionless stare. It's not that Ryuuzaki was being cruel. In contrast, he was being as civil as always. And that was the greatest cruelty. Why wasn't he shouting obscenities? Why wasn't he telling Raito off? Why...why...?

«I'm not a monster! » Raito choked out, remembering the things he had thought about his father before. But Ryuuzaki just stared on.

«I never said you were, Raito-kun. »

Raito gritted his teeth, more out of panic and desperation than anything else. Sayu's small cries, in the background, were like broken melodies in his ears.

«You're thinking it. You're thinking I'm a criminal! » Raito said, in an accusing tone.

«You don't know what I'm thinking. »

«Just say it! Say it! »

«I have nothing to say, Raito-kun. »

«Say it!!...! » by now he was strangling the words between his rhythmic gasps, which sounded suspiciously like sobs «I'm an animal! A criminal! I raped my own sister! Just say it! Say it, God damn you!!! »

Raito, kneeling, bent over and covered his face with his palms, because he didn't want people to see.

«Just spit it out! Your true thoughts!! »

But Ryuuzaki didn't say anything.

And so, finally, Raito knew what his torture was.

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**A/n****: so there you have it. I hope this chapter was FULL of plot twists and surprises for you! If you liked it, hated it or otherwise have anything to say about it, please write me a review. For this chapter especially! I'm very anxious about what readers will think of it! Drop me a line!**

**Ta!**

**Nehti**


	7. Jigoku Dautufuru

**IMPORTANT!! Thanks for all the reviews!! People really seemed to enjoy this chapter, which is why I was so reluctant to change it! But a****s I said before, for some reason, this chapter was pretty hard to write. I made some BIG changes. The people who've already read and reviewed it will unfortunately have to read it again! I'm very sorry, guys!! I loved all your reviews, and I hope you like the renewed version too! If you want to know why all these radical changes have been made, please read the long ending note, which explains everything!**

**DING! I want to offer '**_**sunandshadow**_**' my sincere gratitude, for helping me see some things about this fiction that I hadn't realized before! I'm eagerly awaiting your impressions of the reconstructed version of the chapter!**

**Also, to '**_**Amindaya',**_** whose review I absolutely loved and who kindly offered to help me with beta-ing, I'd be delighted to accept your offer! (You can't imagine what a pain these errors are!) Since I can't seem pin your email down, would you like to send me an email of your own, or contact me in a private message (– if you're still interested in beta-ing that is). Dealing with my horrible errors…You poor soul, you.**

**There may be more typing and syntactical errors than usual, but please cope with it. I'll fix it ASAP!**

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There's a lunatic out there. A madman. A diabolist. He kills and kills and kills. He kills killers. People are afraid to walk on the street. They're afraid to give resumes to their employers. When they go on dates, they're reluctant to tell each other their real names. What kind of Satan kills by knowing your name alone, they think.

Indeed, what kind of Satan?

And to combat him, we only have a white screen. A white screen with a great black "L" stamped in the middle, and a robotic voice, which sounds like something out of a two-year-old's favourite anime, reassuring us we will win. That's our defense mechanism. L's going to save the world, some say. The world doesn't need saving, others say.

But what the hell is "L", anyway? Answer: a computer screen. To what extent are we supposed to trust a man who doesn't show his face and name, because he doesn't want to die? If he's so fucking righteous, why the hell doesn't he hide our faces as well?

Sure, there are fewer criminals now…but there are also fewer films being made, fewer songs being sung. People are too afraid to speak their minds any more. Because by now it's not only the lunatic they're afraid of…it's the lunatic's supporters. If they catch you cursing Kira virulently in public, they practically lynch you. You're '_unjustifiably defacing our protector'_, they say.

The fucking world goes insane right in front of my eyes, and there's nothing I can do about it. They're calling murderers "angels". What is wrong with them? Can't they see that the population is being wiped out right in front of our eyes!? In the beginning it was all fear and terror. But when they realized they couldn't combat it – whatever "it" was – they decided to accept it, and support it. Politics are terrifying in their underlying simplicity.

But the world wasn't always like that…we didn't always live in terror…People don't like to remember life without Kira. They've intentionally wiped it out of their memories. Of course they have. If they allowed themselves to remember how happy and balanced the world was before Kira, then they'd all kill themselves out of despair.

And where was L when all of this happened, eh?

Behind his flickering white screens, that's where.

Perhaps we're lying to ourselves. We all know that L is probably the same, or even worse, than the monster. They both hide their faces, they both conceal their names and they both aspire to control the lives and deaths of other people.

When I think of L, I imagine some sinister black building, derelict and slimy. I imagine a tall, black-clad man with a black profile living there, silent and deadly. L must be one of those people who pierce and cripple you with their gaze. He must look like the kind of imposing Bond character we see in detective films.

But the most frightening thing of all, perhaps, is that I'm not sure. You can't be sure of who's standing behind a computer screen. What does L have to hide? Perhaps L is Kira himself. Did anyone ever think of that? What if Kira is L and L is Kira? Or, even worse, perhaps L doesn't even exist and he's just a scare tactic that the police have devised to cow the population. What then?

We're royally screwed, that's what.

How the fuck did all this happen, anyway? One day everything is ticking like a clock, and the next we can see only chaos. Now we've reached the stage where we don't know what's happening behind the scenes – don't know anything except what they choose to show us – which is the worst of all. Somehow, the safety of our lives, our homes, our families and our jobs has all been surrendered to the big white screen.

It is universally known, albeit never admitted, that the ornate Gothic "L" has been granted access to all our information logs. That man, who we can't see, can see us. If he wants to, he can learn everything about my personal life within seconds. It's like I'm standing in a forest clearing, unable to discern the wolves hiding amongst the trees, even though I'm aware they are watching me. I have the disadvantage by default – me and the other seven billion people out there. Seven billion against two. The world against Kira and L.

And even though a killer can only kill me once by learning my name, who knows what "L" – who works with politicians – can do? What if he decides I'm a public hazard one day? What then? I'm exiled from the country? I lose my job because I think too much? I receive the death penalty? _What?_

How could I let my personal world be manipulated this way? All my life I've been known to take care of my own problems, haven't I? Then why has it come to point where my life is viewed as collateral damage by a white screen? Why?

A black room, with water dripping from the ceiling and a single computer monitor shining in the middle. That's what L is. And Kira…he's worse. When it comes to him, I can't even summon a concrete image. All I can see are two eyes, yellow and bloodthirsty, and the forked tongue of a snake. That's who Kira is.

Who's the real enemy, I wonder. At least the Kira supporters – just as powerless as the rest of us – have something to firmly believe in, however idiotic it may be. Kira's going to protect the world, they keep saying, and they're stupid enough to believe it.

But what do_ I_ believe in? I'm not a sniveling housewife, so I can't trust in my husband. I'm not a teenage girl, so I can't believe in pop idols. I'm not a businessman, so I can't rely on my employer.

Is this really what it comes down to? If people aren't controlled by something, they feel lost? Do we _want_ to be monitored and controlled, just to rest assured that we are under protection? Protection by and from who!? From ourselves? If we really are so privileged, and if they really want to keep us safe, then why aren't we allowed to see their faces, damn it? Is it illogical for us to feel mistrustful of someone unreachable? Why must that man see everything about me if he so wishes? Is he smarter than me? Is he better than me?

No. Truth is; he's probably just luckier than me. Lucky that he had a lot of politician connections and powerful friends, who turned him from a nobody to an all-powerful mega-elite-investigator. If he'd been born in the ghetto, where they don't even spit at your feet, then he'd have been just like any homeless person, regardless of his fucking IQ. If you have to steal for your food, your investigative intelligence counts for zero points.

But I'm willing to bet that that man, whoever he is, never had to work to get anything in his entire life. It was all granted to him from the start. Perhaps this L is ten times worse than Kira himself. At least – in the beginning – Kira never came out with computerized voices. He didn't rub it in our faces that he was in control of our lives and that we couldn't fight him.

But L…

L…

That's another story completely, isn't it? It's almost as though he _enjoys_ seeing us squirm beneath his anonymous scrutiny. What kind of sick man wants to terrorize the population without being a terrorist?

Don't these people have mothers and fathers to keep them in check; I wonder. And then I remember that their parents are probably the reason they turned out the way they did. Who knows what kind of psychologically disturbing environment a man like L, or Kira, grew up in? Maybe I shouldn't curse them for being what they are without knowing the people that raised them. Maybe I should curse my own society for turning people into monsters, who want to kill each other and be in control of each other from afar.

Even so, is it crazy for me, as a human being, to hope that L would stop existing just as much as Kira? I wish L could catch Kira, and then they could both just…disappear from my life.

Is that so wrong? Wanting to be alone, and free of threats? Free of this constant fear, that every time a policeman asks for my ID, I may be surrendering my life?

Is it?

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The only thing that could be heard in the deafening silence was Sayu's small whimpers. Ryuuzaki still hadn't spoken a single word. He just stood there with his spidery legs, watching silently as shivers periodically wracked Raito's shoulders. The kneeling man's knuckles were white as he gripped his haphazard chestnut hair. His ruby-coloured blazer, torn in various places, was scrunched up against his chest. He wasn't weeping or sobbing…but his eyes and mouth were kept carefully concealed from Ryuuzaki's vision.

It was the first time in his life that Raito had felt reluctant to face another person.

Truth be told, despite his humiliation and desperation, Raito had unconsciously been expecting everything to end soon. Wasn't this the pattern? He was sure that he'd be fainting any moment now, and that he'd be magically transported to some other place and time, where a new torture would be waiting for him. This unwelcoming situation would end very soon. Perhaps he'd be thrown to the Hands again. Maybe he'd go back to the interrogation. Neither prospect seemed welcoming….but on the other hand, staying here and facing Sayu's broken gasps was just as bad.

Raito didn't have much heart to think of what lay in his future, for once, since his plight was still adhered to the present. For the first time in his adventurous existence, he was feeling shame. Intense and overpowering shame. His pity about the woman's condition was overpowered only by his intense humiliation. Had Raito been aware, he'd have realized that, even though he'd just attacked a defenseless person, the thing he was truly remorseful about was not causing her harm, but his own public defacement in the eyes of a third person.

So Raito gritted his teeth, and fought to bear with it. In a few moments, he wagered, he'd feel himself fainting again, and he'd wake up in some new torturous setting. And then this hallucination would stop, and he could pretend that he'd never, ever, done that horrible thing.

So Raito waited. He didn't raise his head, nor did he speak again, since he was reluctant to meet the casual blankness in Ryuuzaki's eyes. Why did the detective have to act like that, damn it? Even though he wasn't blaming, cursing or hitting Raito…There was something in Ryuuzaki's calmness that was causing Raito's humiliation to grow. As though, by treating the issue indifferently, L was showing Raito that he was considered just another average person. Ryuuzaki should be showing his amazement that a man as in-control as Raito had lost his composure...not simply standing there, looking non-committal. His current stance was an insult to Raito's sovereignty!

Ironically, even though Raito had wished for the company of other humans before, he'd give anything to be alone right now. But it didn't matter, Raito tried to reason, as he felt his body shake from another uncontrollable spasm. Because it would all be over soon.

But the minutes dragged on, and, moment by moment, Raito's hope began to fade. Why wasn't the scene changing? Why wasn't the torture reshaping, as it had done after he had seen his father rape Sayu?

The passing seconds became minutes, and the minutes hours. The detective had sat down quietly, moving in his distinct insect-like way, with his face always turned and fixed on Raito. As for Sayu, she was trembling and crying by now, clutching desperately at her pelvis, which was barely covered by her torn clothes. Raito could imagine her horrible state even without turning to look at her. And as the hours dragged on and the room became slightly more illuminated than before, Raito felt his shame expanding, as though his crime was coming to the light as well.

It couldn't have been him who did it. He hadn't been thinking straight. Raito would never have done something like that on his own accord. Not him….not Raito…Raito was there to _punish_ criminals, not to identify with them…His greatest pride was his power to control himself…and there was no way he'd have lost that.

He wanted to say all this to Ryuuzaki, but he didn't dare break the tomb-like silence that had fallen around them. And the more time passed, the harder it became to speak. Raito was still kneeling in the same position, and he couldn't move. He was too ashamed to look at Ryuuzaki straight in the face, and he didn't want to see Sayu cringe at the sight of him.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but it felt like at least half a day. Sayu had slowly stopped whimpering, and was now breathing evenly. The events of the night now seemed like an implausible nightmare scenario. But Sayu's shredded blouse and skirt, as well as the blood on the crotch of Raito's beige pants, was proof enough.

In retrospect, now thinking slightly more clearly, Raito distinctly remembered fighting and hitting Ryuuzaki at some point. However, he didn't remember actually knocking the detective unconscious…and on the other hand, he could also remember Ryuuzaki watching them when…

'_Oh…oh no…_' Raito thought with a sudden jerk of realization 'Ryuuzaki_ has seen how I look when I-'_ but Raito cut his thoughts off right there, feeling another panic attack overcome him. He started gripping his hair even tighter, pulling them spasmodically as he recalled exactly how he must have looked in Ryuuzaki's eyes whilst he was completely out of control. The only thing he could do to comfort himself was to keep repeating the same mantra in his mind: 'This is going to end soon'.

Eventually, after what felt like an endless and repetitive eternity, Raito caught movement from the corner of his eyes. He recognized Ryuuzaki's feather-like footfalls as the other man walked away. For the first time in hours, reassured that Ryuuzaki wasn't watching him, the auburn-haired man allowed his hands to slip a bit lower, allowing him to see his surroundings more clearly.

Ryuuzaki had indeed walked away. He was now hunched over the half-empty mini-fridge with his back to Raito and the girl. He appeared to be shuffling in search of food, with his blood-stained white shirt riding up his back as he kneeled.

Raito noticed that the detective took much more time than necessary to open and search the fridge, as though he was reluctant to progress. He also noted one more thing: Ryuuzaki's movements appeared even stranger than usual – more uncomfortable. Especially every time he moved his right hand, the detective appeared to be under strain. Had he hurt himself?

But the moment he noticed Ryuuzaki turning around, Raito covered his face with his hands again, pressing his chestnut fringe against his face. He felt like a child for acting like this, but, on the other hand, he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't face Ryuuzaki – not now – and looking at Sayu was not an option.. He didn't want to see the fear and disgust in her eyes. Even though he'd never felt protective or especially fond of her…he'd still hurt her nonetheless.

But still…he couldn't help but wonder if Ryuuzaki really was hurt, and to what extent. A guilty inner voice reminded him it was Sayu he should be worrying about, but he truly couldn't help himself. After all, having never been a victim of rape himself, it was impossible for him to understand the full impact of what he had done. The guilt and shame he felt, which he now considered so unbearable, had less to do with the actual act of rape than with his own disappointment at himself. He'd thought he was better than that.

Hell, his whole conviction about killing criminals was utterly based on the fact that he was superior than them. After all, how can someone punish criminals, when he is actually just as uncontrolled and animalistic as they are? But can a rapist Judge punish another rapist?

What should Raito do? For the first time since he'd taken hold of the Death Note, he was confused about himself. On the one hand he still held the firm conviction that he was able to recognize criminals and that those criminals should be punished for their brutality, but it was now impossible not to attain a certain amount of empathy for them. After all, he'd technically committed a crime as well, be it a hallucination or not.

And he hadn't truly wished to commit a crime. He'd been forced to do it...in the same way, maybe other criminals – criminals that he would have otherwise Judged without batting an eyelash – had been forced to commit their crimes as well…And in that case…his former belief about punishing criminals was erroneous. As Kira, he had killed any criminal instantaneously, thinking that they were hazards of society. But now, having been forced into committing a crime, he was compelled to review his previous thoughts.

What if some of these criminals had had no choice but to commit their crimes?

In that case, who is the real criminal who should be killed? The one who commits the atrocity…or the one who forces the other to commit the atrocity?

Are criminals just victims of other criminals, just like Raito had been the victim of some demonic arousal when he raped Sayu…?

A small doubt, annoying in its guilty nature, started to spawn in his mind. Had he…was there even a small possibility…that he'd been wrong to kill criminals…? All of his life experiences made it impossible for him to believe something like this. But now, seeing it from a new – guilt suffused –viewpoint, he couldn't help the questions from forming in his mind.

Now that he'd been forced into committing a crime, he truly felt as guilty as a criminal…But still, even though he now thought of himself as a rapist, if a 'Kira' killed him right now then he would feel wronged.

It wasn't his fault he'd raped her. He wasn't a _real _criminal, who'd wanted to harm another person! He had never wanted to commit the crime! In fact, he tried everything he could to prevent it. If he'd had the Death Note now, then he couldn't have blamed someone like himself for raping Sayu. Although, in the past, when he'd been Kira, he'd Judged rapists indiscriminately. But now he realized that he may have been erroneous in condemning all criminal acts so vehemently. Maybe some of them…had been forced to commit rape, or even murder. What if the had had no choice, just as he-

'_Oh no!' _he suddenly thought, overcome by a wave of nausea '_How couldn't I have thought of it before?!' _A newfound guilt began to spawn in his gut '_I could have tried to handcuff myself on something to stay away from her!!'_ But in the state of arousal he'd been in, he had hardly been able to remember his own name, let alone search for logical solutions. Therefore, it was understandable it hadn't occurred to him at the time – the only thing he could have focused on was the crippling pain between his legs.

But _Ryuuzaki_. He was inexcusable. At least he could have thought to tie Raito somewhere. Raito stayed there, unmoving, as he listened to Ryuuzaki move spasmodically, with newfound distaste for the detective. He was a hypocrite, Raito had always known that. Ryuuzaki had never truly cared about the criminal acts themselves – just the hunting of the criminals. In Ryuuzaki's eyes, Raito knew, it had all been a big game.

But would L be indifferent enough to watch a crime be committed under his very nose? Why hadn't he worked harder – fought harder – to stop Raito? Perhaps, Raito thought, as he listened to Ryuuzaki's small limp, L hadn't realized Raito's problem until it had been too late, which was why he'd never had the chance to tie Raito somewhere. Albeit, if Raito had correctly come to decipher the bizarre nature of this strange place – wherever it was – then not even a flaming wall of volcanic lava would have been able to keep him away from Sayu. He'd have raped her no matter what happened, despite his reluctance to do it.

Completely lost in his musings, Raito wasn't prepared for the clattering noise he suddenly heard, coming from surprisingly close. Reflexively, he opened his eyes and stared at the ground in front of him. A chocolate-covered cupcake was left there, like a steak thrown to a dog. He heard a smaller noise come from the far back and realized Ryuuzaki had probably left some food for Sayu as well. After that, the detective walked again, returning to his customary sitting place near Raito. The auburn-haired boy didn't speak to thank the other. He just nodded imperceptibly, more to himself than anyone else. An internal panic attack was threatening him again, since he was slowly starting to realize that the torture was not ending here. He'd be forced to live with Ryuuzaki's silent indifference and Sayu's strangled noises.

With an involuntarily shaky hand, and still not raising his eyes to even look at Ryuuzaki, he brought the cupcake near his mouth. However, immediately feeling bile climb up his throat, he quickly put the food back down. Even though he could vaguely feel hunger, it was impossible for him to eat. It must have been the same for Sayu, since Raito soon heard coughing and sputtering sounds from the far back. Ryuuzaki had no such qualms, apparently, since Raito could clearly discern the munching sounds coming from the detective's direction. However, when the auburn-haired man paid attention, he realized that Ryuuzaki's appetite also appeared forced – his passion about chewing was largely more placated than usual. Apparently, Ryuuzaki was intentionally trying to recreate a semblance of normality.

Raito wondered if the detective was doing it to preserve his own sanity. Even though he'd ever hardly known anything about Ryuuzaki's past… How must an unsociable man feel, Raito wondered, in this isolated place, trapped alone with a rapist and a crying woman?

'_A rapist.'_

And all those criminals he'd judged…would he be fit to judge them now? His father, who he'd been so quick to condemn…what if Souichirou had been forced to rape Sayu in the same way that Raito had? No matter how hard he tried to look at the situation with his previous detached outlook, it was impossible not to feel involved. How could he feel like the powerful authority, which crushes injustice with force, when the warmth of Sayu's thighs was still lingering in his palms?

'_I can't believe I__ fell as low as this…'_ he thought, with vibrant disgust for his inability to control himself. _'Forcing my self on someone – my sister none the less, which should have been a reason to discourage me even more!'_

He ran his hands through his hair and shuffled his feet, trying to disguise his nervousness. Now he was leaning against the wall, hands to his sides, face turned purposefully away from the detective. It was clear by the way Ryuuzaki had tossed the food at him, as though Raito was a wild animal, that he was not seen as the same person any more. He wasn't the embodiment of cold composure and longer. At least not the _absolute _embodiment… How could he be? How could he, after what he'd done?

Through all the thoughts and self-depreciating séances that went through his head, Raito managed to compare, even now, the difference between the way Raito had treated his father and the way Ryuuzaki was now treating him. He remembered his father's crying face, his pleas for forgiveness … Raito had been completely unforgiving back then, as he'd been with every other criminal. But now that he'd experienced first-hand the sensation of being completely manipulated by animalistic urges, he couldn't possibly judge all criminals in the same way.

Of course he still thought criminals were a pest to society, and the Kira had been a true-blue panacea in law enforcement. However...remembering now not only the criminals, but the innocents Raito had sacrificed for his idealistic world – innocents like Ryuuzaki himself, actually – he thought if…perhaps…the people he'd judged as complete hazards before where not as vulgar as he'd initially considered them.

If they had committed their crime for a purpose beyond brutality…or even if they'd committed no crimes at all…

Was it still just to kill them? Had Kira ever been…injust? That's the doubt that terrified Raito the most. Because if Kira had been injust, and he had not been a virtuous self-composed judge…then he was just a man who killed. And if Kira was not a Judge and he was just a man who killed…then the act of killing was not Punishment…it was murder!

And it was this guilt – the sudden small simmer of doubt in his mind that he might have been wrong when killing criminals – that made him become desperate. Ir wasn't the memory of the rape that fed his guilt. The rape had been just a catalyst to make him realize that, sometimes, criminals may not commit crimes out of true spite and barbarism…Sometimes criminals were victims, too. Just like Raito had been a victim of his uncontrolled arousal, and had been practically forced – for reasons of self-preservation – to commit an atrocity even more disturbing than the usual, in its incestuous nature.

So, with this way of thinking, perhaps some of Kira's Judgments had been erroneous. And how can a defective Judge attribute true justice? If the Judge is unable to comprehend true justice and pardon certain criminals…then the judge was no worse than any other murderer!

Was Raito…a murderer!?

He remembered the way his father had almost seemed liberated when Raito had cursed him. At the time, Raito had believed that he'd been distributing divine punishment by calling Souichirou a monster. Only now did he realize, with Ryuuzaki's help of course, that at certain times it is a greater punishment to say nothing, and to let the guilty man live with his guilt.

When the inner peril comes, external punishment is superfluous. You don't need people to tell you…you already now the despicable things you've done. And it's even worse when the people around you refuse to admit it…refuse to deliver your guilt to you. Because dying after you've committed the crime is easy. But living with yourself is harder.

But still, despite these raving thoughts, Raito's mind would keep returning to the same issue: for a guilty man, it was a greater punishment to live than to die. But when it comes to the whole of society, the removal of criminals is the best option – and this point, in Raito's mind, was indisputable.

But now, being too freshly attached to his experience of losing control and left with nothing except Ryuuzaki's scrutiny…he was starting to question himself. The emotion of intense humiliation was too powerful, as was the crippling doubt of his own comprehension of justice, at least for the moment. It was impossible to make solid judgments now. The only thing he wanted, more than anything, was to be out of this place.

-

An entire day passed. Nothing terrible was happening, except for the fact that Sayu had regained her consciousness, which was torturous enough in itself. When she'd first started moving, Raito had stayed crouched against the wall, with his face buried in his knees.

"Sayu-san…"

The girl's brother didn't dare look up as he heard Ryuuzaki's unaffected voice speak to her, flatly asking if he could do anything to help her. But, even as the detective spoke, it was obvious that there was nothing he could truly do to improve the situation. There was no water in the ravished building, and she could find nowhere to bathe …

New nausea attacked Raito. He closed his eyes and fought to deafen his ears, trying to block out the presence of the others. But he couldn't – the small sounds of breathing that surrounded him were constant reminders that he was not alone.

Sayu had stopped crying. She'd stood up mutely and walked to one of the darkest alcoves of the room, presumably to try to reassemble herself. Ryuuzaki had stayed put, his eyes still drilling into the back of Raito's chestnut head. Wasn't it exhausting, Raito wondered, for a person to act like a machine all the time? Why wouldn't Ryuuzaki just…leave him alone? If he wasn't going to erupt and blame Raito…then why was he being such an insistent plague?

The situation was a living nightmare, and it kept getting worse as more and more time passed. The damp, humid darkness of the environment, combined with the vague blue beams of light coming from the destroyed ceiling, worsened Raito's sensibility. Soon there was absolutely nothing he could focus on, and the world seemed to be blurring in shades of black, burgundy and yellow.

Sayu wasn't speaking or looking at him, not that he was looking at her. He could feel her emotional distress all the way across the room. How it must have felt he couldn't truly fathom: he'd never been raped. Raito was never a very emotional man, and he detested weakness in people…but even he could imagine that having someone –especially someone who she'd trusted and respected since infanthood – hurt her without warning was traumatic in itself.

And that uncontrolled person…that was him. This is what bothered him the most. How could he have let himself lose control so fast? He'd never known himself to be so volatile…But he had, and now he had to live with her awkward movements and obvious fear of him.

But his problem wasn't entirely about her – she'd recuperate, eventually. The damage was not permanent – Raito's physical crime hadn't been so strong. It was about himself, losing control and prestige in front of a respectable third party. And now that the torture was continuing, he had to put up with this new status quo, where Ryuuzaki considered him not an equal.

At least if he'd killed her instead of raping her, Raito thought in mental desperation, he wouldn't have been forced to face her now. But the way things had currently turned out to be, even if he'd wanted to forget, her presence would ensure that he couldn't!

Even thinking about it brought an alien knot in the cords of his throat. He clenched his lips reflexively, intent on muting the sounds of dismay that were threatening to come out. He couldn't. He _shouldn't_ let Ryuuzaki see him like this.

And so, time passed. One day became two. The silence had now become routine, replacing the intent debates they'd had before. In the night it was frigid cold and in the day the air was rancid at best. Raito felt stickiness under his sweaty clothes, and he imagined it could only be worse for the others. Uncomfortable with his new awareness about the state of his sister, he just wished that he'd never have to talk or look at her again after what he'd done. Or at Ryuuzaki, for that matter.

But the silence was bound to break eventually. They had no supplies, and there was only so much food that a half-empty mini-fridge could hold. Despite Ryuuzaki's valiant efforts to suppress his gluttony, the supplies were running lower and lower every passing day. Until, finally in the fourth day, the inevitable happened, and Ryuuzaki came back empty handed from his excursion to the fridge.

"There's no more food, or water." The detective solidly surmised. It was perhaps the first time in three days that they had spoken, and the husky voice almost made Raito jump out of his skin by sheer surprise. Judging by Sayu's restrained whimper, she must have been startled as well. Raito wouldn't have been able to see her even if he'd wanted to, since Ryuuzaki had led her to sit in a more withdrawn part of the room – as far away from her brother as possible.

Raito pondered for a few moments whether or not he had the will to speak, but quickly dismissed the idea. He didn't even have the will to turn and face Ryuuzaki, much less speak out loud. He'd prefer it if he never had to speak to another person again. Basically, at this point, he wished he could just…disappear. Act as though nothing had ever happened…act as though his criminal record was as clean as it had always been.

It didn't help that, over the span of the passing days, he couldn't help but notice how Ryuuzaki's movements were becoming more and more uncontrolled, as though he was unable to move freely. And if Ryuuzaki was in pain… then most probably he had been injured during his little spar with Raito. The thought of his animalistic conduct during that fight gave a fresh stab in Raito's stone heart, so he quickly neutralized all thoughts and resolved to avoid Ryuuzaki.

L, however, apparently catching on to the fact that he was trapped in a one-sided conversation, spoke again without waiting for an answer.

"Unless a rescue retrieves us within the next two days, we will all most likely die." Raito noticed that the other's voice was even more monotonous than usual, as though Ryuuzaki was intentionally trying to keep his tone steady when speaking of his own death. The detective had acted this way before, Raito recalled: the day before he died, he'd talked with a similar tone of voice.

Upon Ryuuzaki's staleness, the woman's muffled gasps arose. Raito realized that he'd most probably be stuck here, watching them both die as a form of new torture. But he didn't understand…he was under great distress already. Why would the others have to die? If they died – especially L – then Raito would probably feel more relieved than remorseful.

Ryuuzaki didn't let him ponder this point much longer, however, choosing to continue his monologue.

"I suggest we attempt an escape."

Unable to help the reflexive movement, Raito raised his face and looked directly at the other. But the moment he met the crow-man's eyes, he immediately lowered his face again. He kept quiet for a long time, until Ryuuzaki, now taking a step toward the wall opposite Raito, spoke once again.

"Being content to prolong the present will never alleviate past actions, Yagami-kun."

The statement fell around them like a brick on a marble floor. The underlying truth, which had been avoided for so many days, was now stated in the open. Raito's temples began pulsing, and he could hear the arteries pumping in his eardrums. This was it: Ryuuzaki was asking him to learn to live with his crimes. Raito didn't want to – the doubts that were plaguing his mind about being Kira were too suppressive. Had he been wrong to kill criminals all along? Had he been a man unfit to give absolute justice…?

Raito didn't want to start trying again – he felt resigned. His belief system was shattered, in a way. All his actions had been based on the unshakeable principle that criminal acts must be punished in a just, lawful punishment. But when the criminals did not act due to original evil intent…then was punishing them an act of true justice? Because if it wasn't absolute justice…then, undoubtedly, at least some of the criminals – and the persecutors like Ryuuzaki – that Raito had Judged could be seen not as real pests of society. And if Kira had been Judging people who were not true criminals…then Kira could not be recognized as a real Judge. And if not a part of the authority…then Raito had been nothing but a murderer! Just as Near, L and all those other narrow-minded idiots had always said!!

…was there even the smallest possibility…that they'd been right?

These were the thoughts that plagued Raito the most, and he hated to learn to live with them. But, unfortunately, his arrogant and obstinate nature did not allow him to show his true thoughts in front of anyone – much less Ryuuzaki. Raito may have been feeling weak, and doubtful…but L would never be allowed to know that.

Slowly, somewhat ceremoniously, he raised his eyes. This time, when he saw Ryuuzaki staring at him, he made a conscious attempt to keep his head held high. Even though he didn't have much to be proud of, at this point. Even though one little vice had condemned an entire life of virtue…he mustn't give in. He mustn't let Ryuuzaki manipulate him…he should prove himself as superior once more, or else he'd only give ammunition to Ryuuzaki's dismissals.

So if he wanted to save his pride as a man, and his idealistic goals, then the only thing he could do was stand up. And stand up he did, looking at the wall the whole time. He'd stood up very few times over the last few days, only to attend to his physical needs. Therefore, it somehow felt strange to walk once more.

He looked backwards and saw the dark cranny in which he'd been buried in. The way he now saw it, he had two choices. He could either go back into the crevice, curl around himself and wish he would die – wish that all his beliefs were as straight as they had been before everything happened and before he'd started to feel like a criminal.

Or he could follow Ryuuzaki's toneless advice and live with the fact that there was a possibility Kira – the pivot of Raito's existence – had been a mistake. Of the two choices, the thing that Raito truly wanted to do was the first. But upon seeing Ryuuzaki's scrutiny, the undead urge in Raito's heart to prove himself a superior man overcame him once more. He couldn't let himself be a coward. Not after what he'd done. It would only be a crime as long as he treated it as one.

He couldn't give up now. He didn't know what, but something new had crawled into his body. Some new purpose was driving him, even though he didn't understand exactly what. Perhaps it was his almost obsessive need to ascertain he was the most absolute and superior Judge of all. And now that he'd started doubting the way he'd judged criminals before…

So he walked. He walked forwards and stood a fair distance away from Ryuuzaki, staring at the wall. He still wasn't quite ready to engage in prolonged eye-contact, and he was fighting to keep his head from hunching. There was something about Ryuuzaki's eyes, perhaps the blank non-committal nature of their blackness, that had always reminded Raito of Ryuuku's bored voice. And indeed, it fit perfectly with L's detestable hypocritical nature: even though Ryuuzaki proclaimed that 'he was justice' and that 'he would punish murderers'…he'd never really bothered to judge anything at all in his life. All L ever did was content himself with the thrill of the chase – unlike Raito, he had no honour in his goals.

But still, even though Ryuuzaki himself seemed to have no sense of justice, his black pits of eyes had always had a specific characteristic, Raito pondered. Because L's eyes were so wide and one-coloured, the one who is looking at L can always see themselves mirrored in Ryuuzaki's glassy black orbs. As though, through Ryuuzaki's eyes, they can see the way L is seeing them. And right now, when trying to look into those eyes, Raito didn't like the way his own guilty face was being mirrored, staring back at him.

Apparently, during this whole process of Raito's extreme revelations, Ryuuzaki hadn't reached any similar earth shattering conclusions. He just started talking again, and Raito felt stupid for being unable to face the speaker properly. But …he just couldn't feel quite at ease yet.

"Since no-one has come for us until now, it's safe to suppose that there were probably no survivors." Ryuuzaki concluded, and Raito wondered if the detective was thinking about that old butler man. Even though he knew Ryuuzaki would never show something like that on his expression...Even so…what role did that Whammy play in Ryuuzaki's life, exactly? Raito's curiosity had always been sparked by this matter.

"Therefore we should take precipitate action if we intend to survive."

Raito nodded, still looking at the wall. His voice had been unused for days, so it sounded gruff and unsure when it came out "So what do you suggest we do?" He hated to hear himself speak like this: quietly and swiftly…the voice of a guilty child. He tried to calm himself.

"Climb." Ryuuzaki curtly said. Raito said nothing, waiting for the other to elaborate. And indeed, Ryuuzaki continued "We could attempt to climb upwards through the hole in the ceiling."

Raito's reaction was instantaneous; as he turned to stare at the detective without thinking "You're out of your mind." He'd sounded a bit like himself in the last sentence. But now, suddenly finding himself looking _straight_ at Ryuuzaki's face, he felt lost all over again, and cursed himself for lashing out like that. He didn't like the person he was turning into: a person who wasn't in control. But if he was becoming more turbulent, it was all this hellish place's fault!

In any case, now that he'd made eye-contact, he would never withdraw.

"How so?" Ryuuzaki asked without batting an eyelash, black eyes boring into Raito's skull, now that they finally had the opportunity.

Raito was reluctant to open his mouth. He had heard Sayu's imperceptible gasp when she'd heard him speak before. Her fear had sparked a new guilt in his heart. This constant ambivalence of his emotions about himself was becoming rather tedious.

"Yagami-kun?" Ryuuzaki probed again, interrupting Raito's thoughts. The auburn-haired man's reflexive flinch to the appellation was entirely involuntary, as usual. He tried to clear his thoughts, uncomfortable when faced with Ryuuzaki's demanding expectancy. Deciding that the only way to prove his sovereignty was to act natural and powerful, Raito started speaking.

"If we could have climbed then we would have done it already. But we chose not to because it's too dangerous – the walls may collapse." He took a breath, trying to steady his hateful trembling voice "How can you be sure that we'll find our way outside if we climb to the higher floor?"

Ryuuzaki's wit was quick and concise, his brain as sharp as a razor "The light must be coming from somewhere. We'll find an exit."

"And you waited until now to make this proposal?" Raito answered, by now moving his eyes away from Ryuuzaki's face and focusing on Ryuuzaki's bloodstained shoulder instead. He'd forgotten that Ryuuzaki had hit his head, previously.

"I'd hoped that we'd be rescued in time, Yagami-kun…but now that the victuals are exhausted, we'll have to escape immediately." The answer was short and to the point. Raito noticed, despite himself, that the detective had adjusted to using his surname now, and that he understandably seemed colder than before. The thing that startled Raito, however, wasn't this.

It was the sudden realization that Ryuuzaki had, in fact, always acted rather… warm to him before. As warm as Ryuuzaki could ever be in his own strange way, Raito supposed. This discovery was confusing, since Raito had always thought that Ryuuzaki had been withdrawn and cold towards him. Apparently, judging by the detective's standards, one could even say that he'd even been always been rather friendly, compared to now. And if all of this was a demonic hallucination, and the Ryuuzaki who was here now was not the real man, that still didn't alleviate the fact that the _real_ Ryuuzaki, for some reason Raito could not fathom, had always been rather genial with Raito in particular.

But in any case, Ryuuzaki was a walking riddle. Trying to contemplate on Ryuuzaki's twisted sense of social behaviour was largely futile. At a time, the real Ryuuzaki had always kept saying that 'Raito was his first fired'. Naturally, this had been a rather coy lie, designed to draw Kira out. But now that Raito actively assessed Ryuuzaki's overall behaviour towards him – especially during the time they'd been working together against Higuchi – really was rather friendly. Perhaps Ryuuzaki, Raito thought, had actually involuntarily told the truth when he'd called Raito his friend…

And Raito had killed him, in the end. In fact, Ryuuzaki had died in his very arms, knowing he lost. But Ryuuzaki had always been a hypocrite, not to mention that if Raito hadn't killed him, he'd have killed Raito first…

But this, combined with Raito's recent revelations about the nature of criminals and the justice of Kira, could only result to more doubt of himself.

"Very well." Raito said, swallowing down his guilt and averting his eyes.

He suddenly saw the detective moving away, and followed him with his eyes. Ryuuzaki wasn't exactly limping…it was as though he couldn't move his chest in ease. Raito could clearly see it now that he was looking openly at the other. But the detective hadn't complained at all, so…

More importantly, Raito realized where Ryuuzaki was heading. Toward Sayu. Unable to help it, Raito's attention fell on the girl. She looked truly pathetic, the epitome of helplessness, as she lay huddled there in the corner of the room. Seeing her shaken expression, he stopped looking at her immediately. But not before he'd seen her ravaged clothes, trembling fingers and the bruises on her thighs. He tried to fight the waves of disgust with thoughts of self-assurance.

The only thing he could do to combat his troublesome emotions was to remind himself that he was not _truly_ guilty. His control may have slipped, this once, but he had not caused Sayu any permanent damage. He told himself she would live through it. Raito may have temporarily hurt her, but that didn't make all his actions criminal…Despite his subdued emotions were telling him he was guilty, his mind instructed the logic of the situation.

On the one hand, he wanted to believe that he wasn't a true criminal and that he hadn't been as uncontrolled to rape his own sister. But on the other hand, by believing he was not truly guilty, he would indirectly be accepting that some of Kira's Judgments may not have been correct. And that, in turn, would ultimately imply that Raito was nothing but a murderer – as Near had claimed.

So he could either accept he was a real, guilty rapist – which he truly wasn't…or accept that Kira had acted as a murderer, under certain circumstances.

Trying to alleviate his plight, he turned his doubt and desperation into fury, aiming it at L. Instead of feeling guilty, he should rather be angrier at Ryuuzaki, who, even though conscious, had failed to prevent the rape from happening. This anger, redirected and intensified, became a kindling fire inside the man's chest. In fact, he focused on Ryuuzaki's hunched back, as though willing the other man's head to split in two, like a cantaloupe.

This mess was Ryuuzaki's fault. He'd been the one responsible for preventing Raito from erupting and he'd failed! Even though Raito had fallen victim to a greater scheme, Ryuuzaki should have tried harder to prevent the crime! In fact, Ryuuzaki wasn't half as much as-

Only then, while watching the detective stretch his hand to help Sayu on her feet, did Raito notice that Ryuuzaki seemed rather far away. Particularly far away. Further than usual, actually…

In a sudden burst of awareness, the auburn haired man raised his left hand and looked at it.

Only now did he realize that the handcuffs had never been reconnected.

-

Until now, Raito had thought that nothing could ever happen to him worse than the Hands. The feeling of having your body torn apart by angry souls is unmatched, after all. And yet, in this silent, half-collapsed room, Raito was experiencing a kind of torture that could very well compare with his greatest nightmare.

Sayu was standing there, a few feet away. Just like a dog, Raito could smell her fear. He wasn't doing anything offensive – he wasn't even looking at her at all. And yet she tried to stay as far from him as possible, as though he'd assault her unexpectedly. Her legs, two unsteady sticks, could barely support her body. Her lips seemed dry and cracked. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her it wasn't his fault…to say that it had been just a momentary slip of self-control and it did not mean he was a violent criminal. But for some reason, upon seeing her tear-streaked cheeks, the words died in his throat – he'd never been good with crying women.

In all his living hours, Raito had never thought he'd see the day when a female would willfully cling to Ryuuzaki. And yet here he was, seeing it right in front of his eyes. Not that Sayu was touching Ryuuzuaki in any way, per se. It was just the way she had placed herself, hiding her body strategically behind Ryuuzaki's, keeping her head bowed low. Ryuuzaki, on his part, didn't appear to be defensive or protective of her in particular…but he didn't shun her away either.

'_Hypocrite' _Raito thought with suppressed fury '_You didn't fight hard enough to protect the victim when the time came!'_

Raito was keenly aware, now more than ever, that the detective hadn't tried with all his might to prevent the rape, like Raito had when against his father. Perhaps self-perseverance was so much a part of Ryuuzaki's psyche that the man was simply unable to produce any kind of sympathetic feeling for another human. Ryuuzaki was, after all, the type of person who would never jeopardize his own well-being to protect that of another.

Raito wanted to lash out and blame Ryuuzaki for all of this… but, despite his wrath, he could not find the gall to do it. After all, who was Raito to talk? Hadn't he been the one responsible for the situation all along? Ryuuzaki had never had any typical obligations to protect Sayu…and knowing Ryuuzaki, it was predictable that he would prefer to let events unfold than to interfere. And now Ryuuzaki was disturbed enough by Raito's conduct to refuse reattaching the handcuffs – which was one of Ryuuzaki's fundamental anxieties.

But it was not Raito's fault! It wasn't his fault that he'd suddenly become so extremely and unjustifiably aroused! Like Raito himself had said, he would have died had he not released himself. He would have died! His body may have committed a despicable crime. But he had never wished for it to happen. A crime like his was not a real one.

Fighting to make himself calm down and focus on the present, Raito noticed they were standing directly under the hole in the ceiling. But the task of climbing through appeared impossible now, not only because of the physical difficulty, but also the reluctance of the participants to cooperate with each other in the intimate way required. The siblings were probably expected to support each other when attempting to climb…and that possibility simply was not viable.

Ryuuzaki, always the cold analytical mind, immediately launched into action, not waiting and not caring about the complications of others. Usually, Raito would have been the same, because he never had any 'complications'. Now, however, that he was the one having the problem and Ryuuzaki was the one to ignore him, he hated this quality in the detective. L kept his back turned to Raito as he observed the ceiling, obviously trying to find ways to climb upwards with the least possible strain. Perhaps, Raito thought, they could climb on one another as they had before and then Ryuuzaki could help the woman climb.

Although he was rather sure that Ryuuzaki was unwilling to even stand near him, let alone touch him, after what had happened. But if he knew Ryuuzaki as well as he thought he did, then Ryuuzaki would swallow down his personal needs when faced with a greater practical requirement.

The blue spotlight that was coming from upwards cast Ryuuzaki's form to shadow, merging his black hair with his bloodstained shirt. _'He must feel horrible'_ Raito thought all of a sudden, seeing the clingy wetness of the other man's shirt. The humidity of the environment was a destructive combination with Ryuuzaki's heavy clothing. Even though the detective seemed just as composed and expressionless as ever, Raito was willing to bet that Ryuuzaki was boiling inside. Raito huffed quietly, annoyed with himself for thinking about the state of the others, when he had his own discomfort to worry about.

"Yagami-kun," Ryuuzaki started, and Raito gritted his teeth upon hearing that horrid name. He saw the detective turn around slowly, black tresses flowing in natural curves around his head. The pure whiteness of the man's shirt was enhanced when against the light, despite the fact that it was utterly filthy and nearly grey in colour by this time. Suddenly, as though now seeing Ryuuzaki for the first time since L had died, Raito felt some strange emotion jerk as his heart. Actually, without knowing or admitting it, Raito might have even wanted to see Ryuuzaki again, after he had been buried.

Ryuuzaki's face was cast to shadow, and Raito could only vaguely see the whiteness of his eyes and the outline of his mouth. Had Raito been able to discern the other man's features, he might have seen, perhaps, a small crease between the sparse eyebrows. Other than that, there was no sign of discomfort.

"I think the only-" the detective started, but his voice was cut off abruptly, as though it were a light bulb that was suddenly shut off. That sudden cessation was the only warning Raito got, before all hell broke loose.

The next few seconds were too sudden to be interpreted logically: to put it plainly, Ryuuzaki started falling down, much like a sack of potatoes, literally threatening to collapse on the ground face-first. His black eyes were half shut, as though he was under hypnosis, and his neck was arched awkwardly backwards. Sayu's startled cry of surprise came simultaneously with Raito's urgent call of "Ryuuzaki!"

Raito reacted completely instinctively, although he never knew he had such instincts. He dived forward without thinking, grabbing Ryuuzaki just before he hit the ground. The deja-vu of the scene was unnerving, and Raito was feeling a constriction in his lungs as he turned Ryuuzaki around to see his face. Truth be told, the chestnut-haired man half-expected the detective's eyes to be open and unblinking. Just as they'd been…at that moment. The moment before Ryuuzaki had died.

All thoughts of anger, guilt and righteousness evaporated from Raito's brain in a matter of seconds. Now the only thing he could think was that Ryuuzaki would die. He'd die again.

He'd die again…

And then Raito would be left alone…alone with Sayu, which was worse than a nightmare.

Alone. Without Ryuuzaki's tonelessly intelligent comments, which were the only verbal challenge Raito had ever really met in his life…Raito suddenly realized he would be left feeling rather isolated! Without even one respectable person to communicate with. And even though the same thing had happened when Raito had been alive after Ryuuzaki's death, it had never been so pronounced. But if Raito was left feeling temporarily alone in a place as this…who knows what would happen?

But this time, thankfully, as Ryuuzaki's black hair lay splattered all over Raito's burgundy sleeve, there was no deadly silence surrounding them. Sayu had started screaming out of reflex the moment Raito had made a sudden movement. In the meantime, her brother was staring at the fallen detective with hoarse eyes, completely taken by surprise.

In the blue-white twilight, Ryuuzaki's eyes were half open, and Raito had never seen them like this. It was almost as though, for the first time since Raito had met him, Ryuuzaki was actually losing focus.

"Ryuuzaki…" Raito muttered, shaking the other man's shoulders. He watched, entranced, as Ryuuzaki's head bobbed uncontrollably up and down. The shoulders Raito was grabbing were wet from perspiration and dried blood. Thankfully, Sayu had stopped screaming by now, and had simply moved away. She was obviously terrified by the fact that she was once again alone with her rapist, but Raito had no time or will to try and placate her. The dead weight in his hands was calling for his attention.

"Ryuuzaki…! Can you hear me?" Raito asked, feeling Ryuuzaki's body temperature reach volcano heat beneath his fingers. He almost couldn't believe it when he actually saw the other man's eyes blinking slowly and his mouth opening without producing sound. Ryuuzaki never blinked so casually and he never, at least not in Raito's experience, acted disorientated. "Ryuuzaki" Raito tried again, and gingerly placed his hand on the detective's forehead. As the chestnut-haired man had suspected, the skin beneath his palm was not only burning up – it was practically hot enough to scorch.

Ryuuzaki had a skyrocketing fever, which explained why he was sweating so profusely and why his temperature was so high. But…how? Why hadn't he said anything? When had this happened? And why did he suddenly collapse now? Couldn't he have persevered a little longer, until they'd escaped the building?

Then, suddenly, Raito remembered that Ryuuzaki had been limping slightly…Raito had never really managed to ask where Ryuuzaki was injured. But apparently…

Apparently…Ryuuzaki hadn't said anything after all…

"Ryuuzaki…where does it hurt?" he pressed for an answer, watching Ryuuzaki's eyes focus and refocus ineffectually. Unexpectedly, Raito felt something feathery pressing against his chest, and recognized the sensation of the detective's long fingers. A few seconds later, Ryuuzaki's nails seemed to dig and push against Raito's chest, as though the detective was trying, even now, to keep Raito away from him.

Raito was temporarily impressed by L's well-concealed personal stubbornness. Even with his head pounding and burning, Ryuuzaki apparently still wanted to solve his own problems by himself.

"Where does it hurt?" Raito repeated, keeping his hands firmly in place and letting his eyes bore into Ryuuzaki's dazed ones. For some reason, this disoriented face that Ryuuzaki was currently wearing, with those wide black eyes and flushed skin, made it easier for Raito to look straight at him. As though this weren't the real cruel detective, but another man completely. A…different kind of man. A weaker man.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raito remembered that he'd wanted to see this expression of resignation and not of sharp suspicion. And now that he was seeing it in real life, he found that, indeed, Ryuuzaki's face looked rather different when his eyes were half-closed. Although, for the life of him, Raito didn't know when he'd started guessing what Ryuuzaki's face would look like when in a daze.

Ryuuzaki still wasn't saying anything, and Raito could feel the spidery ribs moving almost frenetically in his hands. Something was very wrong. Ryuuzaki was always composed and in control…his body must have been under great stress in order for him to be acting like this. He probably wasn't speaking because he didn't have the strength, not strictly because he didn't want to talk to Raito.

Then, still obviously trying – and actually failing, for once – to keep his face expressionless, Ryuuzaki brought his left hand on the right side of his own torso. Raito immediately focused on the movement, seeing the place Ryuuzaki's hand was patting. He understood immediately.

Without wasting any time, and vaguely aware of Sayu's nearby whimpers, Raito gathered Ryuuzaki better in his arms and began to tuck the white shirt upwards. He could hear Ryuuzaki's heavy breathing, and could feel the tickle of the other man's hair against his clothing. How he hated that blasted black hair! And yet, he couldn't make himself pull away from it.

Not thinking about what he was doing or why he even felt compelled to do it, he tucked the loose shirt up to Ryuuzaki's collarbone, pushing the detective's hand away in the process. Temporarily startled by the unexpected smoothness of Ryuuzaki's flesh, Raito only refocused his attention when he heard Sayu's loud gasp come from the side. And then the wound was brought to light: a huge bruise covering the entire left part of Ryuuzaki's ribcage. It had the distinctive sickly purple colour of internal bleeding.

"R-Ryuuzaki-san…" was heard the girl's tremulous voice, used for the first time in all these days. Raito said nothing, partly because he knew he would scare her away and partly because he was too startled to react.

"Internal bleeding…" Raito concluded, his voice thicker than he intended it to be. Ryuuzaki arched his throat backwards to try and shake the kinks away, and Raito watched the bare torso laid in front of him struggle to breathe. Obviously, Ryuuzaki was in pain when he tried to move the upper part of his body. "…Must have damaged a rib…" Raito said, watching Ryuuzaki's head nod imperceptibly. Sayu let out a choked cry.

It must have happened during their fight. Raito remembered, with great clarity and equal guilt, that he'd grabbed and slammed Ryuuzaki on the floor. At the time, Raito hadn't been aware of what had really happened and where he'd hurt the other man…but now it was all becoming very clear.

Ryuuzaki must have not said anything since this kind of injury was often deceptive – he'd probably thought it was nothing serious. It wasn't plausible that a rib was broken, since L would have been crippled by pain immediately. But this bruise was a result of extended internal deterioration. And combined with Ryuuzaki's obstinate lack of sleep and daily strain…

Raito's assessment of the reasons Ryuuzaki hadn't fought any harder suddenly changed. Apparently, many of his assessments would change today.

"…We…" Raito heard a whimper from the side, and did not dare turn around to look at his sister as she spoke "We have to get out of here…"

And Raito couldn't agree more. Ryuuzaki's neutralized condition had just added to their problems. If they didn't manage to get precipitate medical attention, then… then the consequences might be dire.

Raito's mind started working overtime as he tried to analyze their escape routes. How would they reach the ceiling, when everything around them was a potential danger? Maybe Sayu could climb first, and then….but no, how would she be able to lift Ryuuzaki? Then, maybe Raito should climb up first, and try to drag Ryuuzaki with him…but Raito could barely lift the other man!

He just sat there, dumbfounded and bereft of ideas. He was floundering, flailing, and unable to find an escape. Why oh why did it have to be Ryuuzaki – the only other male in the vicinity – who was incapacitated? Why couldn't it have been Sayu, or himself? Why? Ryuuzaki was the only person who would have been able to help him. And now…

There was no solution for this problem. No solution….

He felt weak and completely drained, all of a sudden. In fact, he could almost feel the darkness swallow him up, before he even saw it.

-

"…-quick! Take them to the emergency ward-…quick!-"

"…nii…chan…"

-

The next time Raito opened his eyes, he was almost blinded by light. It took a good few minutes to adjust his eyes to the brightness and even more time for him to sit up from his lying position.

He found himself on the white bed of a clinic, in a room with green tapestries on the walls. On the left side of his bed there was a small nightstand, complete with flower bouquet and a 'get well' card. He could hear the distinctive shrill beat of the heart ultrasound machine, and for the first time noticed that there were thin tubes attached to his arms, feeding him a translucent serum.

On the far side of the room he could see a wide window, with white curtains drawn in front of it, which was the source of warm orange sunlight. An analogical clock on the wall informed him that he had come to his senses at half past two in the morning – not at five o'clock, for once. The distinctive absence of marionettes, satanic clocks, or any other kind of suspicious accessory, was almost overwhelming.

However…the most prominent and important characteristic of this room was none of those elements. It was the fact that he was not alone in it. His rather quiet roommate was lying down in a supine position on a bed right next to Raito's. The person's face was turned away, but Raito could recognize those unkempt strands of ebony hair anywhere by now.

In all his life and afterlife this was the first time Raito had ever seen L sleep.

He noticed that Ryuuzaki was wearing the customary white nightgown – as was Raito himself. It was rather preposterous, but Raito just realized that, in all the time they'd known each other, he'd never seen Ryuuzaki's bare arms before. The skin was so white that it appeared sallow, even though Ryuuzaki's muscles seemed sufficiently developed. The stark contrast between the black hair and porcelain skin was distinctive of a man who hasn't seen the sunlight for extended periods of time. Of course. The only kind of 'Light' that Ryuuzaki could stand was computer light.

The detective's arm was connected to two serums, one translucent and one dark blue. He also had a tourniquet around his forearm and some gauzes wrapped around his head. As if through a dream, Raito fought to recall the way Ryuuzaki had sustained all these injuries.

And then, like a tornado, awareness hit him.

He remembered everything with excruciating detail within one explosive second. The earthquake, the slaughter, the rape…Ryuuzaki's hideous injury…and then, he remembered lights and people running: a rescue team had come after all, albeit Raito didn't understand how this was possible. Until now, he'd assumed the entire thing was a hallucination anyway. Hadn't he previously been unable to exit the HQ building? Then how on earth had he been brought here – to a place that was obviously not the Headquarters? Raito was always one to question his good fortune, especially when it was offered so open-handedly.

Suspiciously, he lay back on the bed, treasuring this chance to rest, despite the obvious bizarreness of the situation. No sneering puppets, no demons…no hair being shoved down his throat… no Hands. No burgeoning erection ripping his stomach apart.

It was almost too good to be true.

Raito shuddered, but hid it well.

He wondered where Sayu was and what she must be thinking about him, but the guilt was so intense that he soon felt the need to stop thinking altogether. He shut his eyes and sighed deeply, willing himself to go to sleep. He resolved he'd reflect on all his problems the next time he'd wake up – wherever he'd wake up.

But now that he was cozily tucked in a warm bed, the worst of his memories kept returning, as though to haunt him. The gaunt look on Ryuuzaki's face …Sayu's screaming visage…The Hands grabbing him…

The Hands…

Had Kira really been a murderer? A criminal? Was Raito being punished for killing people who weren't guilty…?

Raito shot upwards, unable to rest even for a second. He covered his face with his hands once more, and hated the fact that he had to live with this regret, just for one small mistake.

Who was doing all this to him, anyway? Who had forced him to be aroused? What was the point of trying to make him feel remorseful? But he'd never drop as low as to regret being himself. He hadn't regretted during being ripped by the Hands, and he wouldn't regret now. He'd cope with it. Even though he wasn't sure of himself any more…

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly by a sound that came from somewhere on the right. Raito turned around, watching the other man turn on his side, exposing his face to Raito.

For a few moments the auburn-haired man just kept staring, somewhat dumbfounded. The warm yellow sunlight from the window flattered the hues of the other man's zombie-skin. Ryuuzaki's expression while he slept was not much different from when he was awake, actually.

But the fact that the eyes were closed made a huge overall difference, since the absence of that bug-eyed stare made Ryuuzaki's more normal features, like his well-shaped nose, stand out. Raito had noticed this kind of expression before on Ryuuzaki, very rarely, when the detective had been in his most spirited moments.

Raito turned away from the sleeping man, focusing his eyes forward and immediately dedicating his brain to the analysis of his surroundings. In this way, he'd forgotten his previous occult thoughts about Ryuuzaki's expressions within seconds.

But it seems that lady luck would not rest contentedly without teasing him that day. A few minutes later, another sound echoed from Ryuuzaki's direction, and Raito reluctantly turned around, expecting to see Ryuuzaki drooling on his pillow while dreaming of cakes, or something to that effect.

But when he turned around, the only thing he could see were two eyes, black, huge and unblinking, staring right at him. And a completely stiffened mouth, as though Ryuuzaki had just realized he'd committed a grave sin. Of course: he'd let himself sleep and be off his guard in front of Raito. For Ryuuzaki, this must be viewed as a major vice.

Under normal circumstances, Raito would have said a sugar-coated 'good morning' without batting an eyelash. But now, after everything that had happened, he and Ryuuzaki just kept staring at each other as though trying to decipher the thoughts behind each other's obstinate stare. Did Ryuuzaki remember…? Did…?

A few minutes passed like this, until the detective finally broke eye contact and turned around, lying supine on his bed. His hand rose reflexively to touch the place on his ribcage where his wound had been, and Raito saw him heave a well-suppressed sigh of relief. So he'd been hurting more than he'd been letting on.

Ryuuzaki tried to sit up, with his black bangs kept unkempt by the gauze around his forehead, but, apparently, his injuries hadn't fully convalesced yet. With an inaudible gasp, which Raito wouldn't have noticed had he not been watching the other like a hawk, the detective was forced to lie back down.

His next step was to try to pull his knees against his chest, as though to curl in his usual position. But Ryuuzaki's abdominal muscles were incapable of constriction, so he obviously couldn't even rest in his favourite stance. Needless to say that Raito empathized, from past experience of being in that body. In fact, he could almost feel the distinctive small annoyance that had always accompanied Ryuuzaki's body: if Ryuuzaki didn't hunch his back and curl around himself, everything started feeling distracting and annoying. Raito remembered that he'd feel much more disoriented in Ryuuzaki's body if he didn't satisfy these urges. Typical of Ryuuzaki to have special physical needs. He was a social alien, after all.

L was now assessing his surroundings by moving his eyes around on a completely unmoving head. He wouldn't start speaking any time soon, at least that much was clear. And Raito realized that, had there not been a complete emergency for escape, the detective probably wouldn't have ever spoken to him after the rape in the first place.

In fact, it was most probable that Ryuuzaki would never call Raito by his first name, and he'd never make silly percentage calculations again. Because now, in the eyes of everyone, Raito was an uncontrolled monster…just because he'd let himself lose control. Just once was enough to wreck a lifetime of showing Ryuuzaki how composed and powerful he was.

Life wasn't fair sometimes. Even to Kira.

Ironically, thanks to Raito's rather dramatic and expressionistic display of violence, he had convinced L that he couldn't possibly be Kira. Ryuuzaki, in all probability, was now completely convinced that Raito was not Kira, since a figure as rigid, authoritative, self-composed and Godlike as Kira would never fall to an act of rape.

Actually, Raito didn't know what he was most remorseful about: the fact that Ryuuzaki now thought he was not Kira… or the fact that Ryuuzaki's assessment of Raito's character would change so radically.

Because Raito was convinced that L, despite his hypocritical words about Kira being a murderer, also understood that what Kira did wasn't a crime – it wasn't about losing control, but the exact opposite. It wasn't like what Raito had done to his sister. It was something completely different…it was a form of punishment…it was not a crime. He didn't want Kira to be seen as-…because he wasn't a-

-but…

But Raito doubted anyone else would understand that. They hadn't understood when he'd been alive, after all.

-

He had fully recuperated within a week. Doctors and nurses had kept entering and leaving the clinic room to check up both on him and his black-haired friend. Raito was quick to notice that, when the door of the room opened, there was no black void behind it. Everything looked absolutely natural.

Perhaps what was even more worrying was that, when his doctor had come to stand at the foot of his bed, Raito had looked at the patient log the white-coated man had been holding. It was the stack of papers with information on all patients…

…and Raito could read it.

No blank pages. No unnatural incomprehensibility. He could read it perfectly fine, and it was dated in September 2004. Everything seemed normal, everything seemed natural. And that was perhaps the most unnatural element of all.

The most dangerous thing of all was that Raito involuntarily had started to feel like he was in the real world. And if he was in the real world…then the rape he had committed was extremely real. And if it was real, then….

Ever since Ryuuzaki had woken up, he'd taken care never to fall asleep in front of Raito again. This lasted for about one and a half day, at which point a nurse came in, carrying a sleeping pill to counter the patient's 'insomnia'. Basically, Ryuuzaki had been forced to consume it, and had fallen asleep rather reluctantly soon afterwards.

Raito had stayed up and watched him sleep, not because he really wanted to, but mostly because he was reveling in the thrill of doing something Ryuuzaki clearly didn't want him to do.

And so seven days passed, and Raito's doctor, who had never seemed particularly friendly, entered his room. The chestnut-haired patient was presented with new clothes – old and worn, but at least completely clean. After he'd worn them, he'd been escorted to the doctor's office, where he'd been asked to sign certain medical forms.

Until, finally, when he'd almost spent half an hour sitting on a wiry chair in front of the doctor's desk, he'd been asked to stand up. He was expecting to be led back to his room.

But the doctor who was escorting him followed another path. They entered a dirty elevator, went down a corridor with slimy walls, turned left, turned another left and walked into room 346F.

Room 346F, in the middle of which was located only one single bed, with none other than Sayu Yagami lying on it, attached to serums and breathing machines.

Raito's heartbeat began to rise and his fingertips started convulsing uncontrollably. He turned toward the doctor, only to find the plump bald little man looking back at him. Raito clenched his jaw, keeping his visage completely blank. Why had he been brought…-?

"This is Yagami Sayu-san…am I correct?" the doctor stated, and the unfriendliness in his eyes started to gain new meaning in Raito's mind. "She is your sister."

Raito chose to make an affirmative sound, while his mind was frantically looking for ways to falsify the criminal charges. The doctor's sharp eye was telling him that he'd be blamed and arrested for the girl's rape if he didn't do something soon…although he didn't understand what has happening. He'd originally thought he was in a hallucination…but the world now seemed completely …

…normal.

Could it be that…all those scenes and nightmares…had they…really been a lie? No. No. It was impossible. Impossible. He'd never have raped Sayu if it hadn't been for the hellish powers overcoming him. This world just didn't make any sense! First he'd been trapped in a nightmare that looked like it belonged in Hell…

And now? Now he was trapped in another nightmare. Only this time it looked exactly like the real world, as he had lived in it in 2004 – the year Ryuuzaki had died. What the…what was going on?

He had to find a way out of this!

"Upon inspecting her body, we found signs that she was recently sexually violated." The doctor started, his beady black eyes piercing into Raito's skull "…raped, that is."

Raito's long experience with forging hypocritical expressions came in handy once again. He carefully schooled his face into a mask of extremely surprised dismay.

"What are you saying? Don't talk like that in front of her." he said loudly in an effort of distraction, making the doctor step back in slight surprise. He personally thought that his 'protective big brother' persona was rather well-adapted.

"Yagami-kun." The doctor said solidly, and kept his eyes set in a hostile frown "She could only have been raped by two men in the span she was trapped in there…And given that the semen we retrieved from her rapist is a perfect match with your DNA fingerprint…not to mention that a portion of the blood retrieved from your clothes was hers..." The doctor kept looking at him, as Raito stayed there, immobilized, looking at him.

He could see the new torture that was waiting for him.

He could see the scenario unfolding right in front of his eyes: it was unavoidable. He could see himself going to prison, along with all the other scumbags. And then, one day, he'd feel his heart stop. Kira would kill him, or something as tragically ironic as that. This hallucination was trying to make Raito see that he'd killed some criminals unjustifiably, by making him – who was technically not guilty of the crime – be mercilessly killed by Kira.

He was willing to bet his head that this was what was in store for him. This torture, obviously, was an effort to make him repent for using the Death Note. Now he'd be killed by Kira for being a rapist, even if he really was no criminal. This was just the logic of this place. And there was nothing he could do to prevent the events from unfolding: not even if he tried to pull an elaborate act.

"I don't understand what you're implying." He stated, deciding that he'd give it a try nonetheless, and act aggressive – offence was the best defense. Thus, he was surprised to see the doctor's eyes narrow ominously instead of widen in surprise.

"Don't play this game with me, young man." the older man said, and jerked his head roughly toward the girl "I know you raped your sister." An expression of complete disgust climbed on his face, and Raito had to keep repeating to himself that he was not guilty, in order not to feel nauseous. "And possibly hurt Hideki in the process."

It took a few seconds to remember that 'Hideki' was referring to Ryuuzaki's faux Japanese persona. "You must be insane." Raito finally stated, rigidly, making the doctor bare his flat teeth. "We withstood an entire earthquake, for goodness' sake."

"Don't look at me like that." The short man spat, taking a threatening step forward. Raito kept his ground, trying not to let show how fast his heart was palpitating inside. "Your sister may claim you never hurt her…but the evidence doesn't lie, and you'll get what you deserve."

For a few moments, Raito could hear nothing except his own heartbeat. The doctor's words sank in, and he turned to look at Sayu with a jerk of his head. The girl seemed at peace as she lay calmly on her bed.

"You will undergo interrogations by the police.." the doctor started saying, but his infuriated words faded into the distance, and Raito could only see the woman resting quietly. The only thing he could focus on now was the sound of her steady breathing, amplified by the breathing machine.

She'd…helped him? Why? Hadn't he harmed her? Didn't she want revenge? As a victim, didn't she wish to distribute justice?

There was a big part of Raito that was grateful towards her for not readily condemning him. But another part of him was unbelieving. He was confused. That girl…despite how badly he'd hurt her…she hadn't had the will to persecute him. And it couldn't have been for any other reason except that she was too ashamed – or weak – to follow justice. After all, their relationship as siblings was not so close so as to prevent her from blaming him out of love.

Raito felt intense gratitude, of course…most likely, this weakness of hers had saved him. However, it was all overpowered by a greater feeling of disappointment. Was this really the kind of society he'd been fighting for – where the supposed victims are too reluctant and ashamed to punish the criminals?!

Raito had never been a victim, so he wouldn't know what other factors were influencing Sayu's behaviour. However, seeing her resignation, which had ironically saved his life…he realized that the victims of the world had needed Kira more than Raito had thought. Kira had been there to revenge them and kill the crimnals, when they hadn't had the will to avenge themselves.

"And as for your fate after-" as the doctor droned on and on about how Raito would be brought to justice and would get what he deserved, the only thing Raito could think about was his new revelation. Kira had indeed been a saviour for society…not a criminal. Not a murderer, as Raito had fearfully started to think.

But there was something that was bothering Raito, too…it was like a lukewarm feeling: warm and cold at the same time. The world around him seemed so normal that it was becoming distracting…and Sayu's serene face, as he saw her lying there…it was all so real.

Had he…really raped someone?

Regardless of the existence of Kira and the Death Note…had he, Yagami Raito as a person… really become a…criminal? And if he was…was he still fit to Judge people as Kira?

He didn't like this doubt. It was the most dangerous thing that had ever happened to him. And the doubt was becoming stronger every moment he spent in this world. In this natural place, he'd slowly started feeling guiltier and guiltier.

Because it was an undeniable fact…that he'd lost control that time. No matter who had forced him to, he had been the one to ultimately make a choice and lose control.. And the fact that she had denied automatically all his charges was making his guilt even stronger – it was as though he was naturally conditioned to lying. Not once had it occurred to him to give himself up to the authorities, despite knowing how important it was to rid society of criminals…

Was this the kind of person he really was? A man who, regardless of the rigid ethics he believes in, will try to save his skin? He'd never wondered, in all his living years, what he would do if he ever became a criminal. Would he judge himself with the same mercilessness he judged all the others…?

Obviously not.

And now, seeing Sayu, he could almost imagine her, with her weak tearful face and shaking voice, denying everything. He could almost hear her voice sobbing "No, no…my brother would never do such a thing!"

She'd be saying this out of her own personal shame and she'd be trying to protect herself, putting the ordeal behind her. Raito had studied enough psychology to know how rape victims' minds work. However, despite the fact that he knew why she'd be saying it, this didn't alleviate the fact that…technically, he was guilty. And since he recognized the symptoms of victimization on someone…he should turn himself in, right?

Is that what a real Judge should have done? Is that what Kira would have done?

"He's not that kind of person!"

Actually….what kind of person was he? A man who killed for a living. But killing can be interpreted in a number of ways, according to who orders it to be done.

Perhaps the real question was…Did he kill as a Judge… or a murderer?

It wasn't so clear anymore.

-

More than five days passed, during which he was kept in the clinic. He'd been interrogated three times, and he'd done the only thing he could think of: deny, deny, deny. At this rate he'd be brought to trial…and if that happened, unless both Sayu and Ryuuzaki solidly refused his guilt, it was inevitable that he'd enter prison.Until then, however, he was willing to cling to that string of hope that he could convince Ryuuzaki to support him. So he denied everything in front of the police, time and time again.

And the days went by, each one slower, more angst-ridden and more torturous than the previous. Raito stayed with Ryuuzaki in their room, unwilling to roam the halls for longer than necessary. There was a security guard outside the door of course – Raito was considered a suspect for rape and would not be allowed to exit the room without an escort.

So Raito stayed inside, watching Ryuuzaki's fractured ribs rejuvenate. During the day, he mostly gazed out of the window or tried to focus on reading a novel. But no matter what he ever did, his thoughts would always return to that day, when he'd seen the slight smile on Sayu's sleeping face.

Ryuuzaki's rather laughable Japanese persona – 'Ryouga Hideki' – had apparently been revealed during the last few days he was awake. At first, Raito had thought the detective would be lost without Watari to adjust his connections to the outside world. He shouldn't have put it beyond L to have an ace hidden up his sleeve: Ryuuzaki had forged a completely false 'Hideki' persona for himself, complete with false family history and false medical/criminal records. The only thing real about 'Ryouga Hideki' was his preposterously high grades in the university entrance exams. So the doctors, after a long explanation about lost passports, lost ID cards and the panic of the earthquake, had left Ryuuzaki to convalesce in peace.

Another week had passed, in the same relaxed pace, and Raito now found himself reading a disengaging newspaper, which mainly focused on the dire effects of the earthquake and not on Kira's newest actions. The steady, repetitive sound of Ryuuzaki munching on his sweets – brought in by a disgruntled nurse – was rather comforting in its familiarity.

At some point, after a while, Raito shot a customary glance at the detective's direction, just to see where the other was looking. Humorously enough, he caught Ryuuzaki with half-closed eyes, as though fighting not to die of boredom. Raito couldn't even fathom how utterly sick of himself Ryuuzaki must be feeling, if he was unable to contain himself despite his great self-control. It seemed that without work to do and criminals to catch, Ryuuzaki was about as useful or interesting as a canvas without paint.

"You can go to sleep, you know." Raito decided to say, thinking about what a boring person Ryuuzaki truly was when he had nothing to act smart about. No wonder that no one had ever remembered Ryuuzaki for his personal qualities after his death…he didn't _have _any personal qualities. Even so, Raito was willing to bet that if they brought a chessboard in the room here and now, Ryuuzaki would suddenly become the most interesting and passionate person in the world.

But without someone to arrest, outsmart or some impossible obstacle to overcome…Ryuuzaki had no features, as a man. Save for the aggravating personal grooming habits and odd body posture, of course.

He watched Ryuuzaki's eyes widen immediately and gain their usual glassy quality at Raito's words. The detective was back to full focus as he let his black orbs slip to Raito, still not moving his head at all. It was kind of an odd way of looking at things, Raito thought. It slightly reminded him of that puppet. But Ryuuzaki would never smile like that, thankfully. In fact, Ryuuzaki would never smile in a million years.

"Is that what you're hoping, Yagami-kun?" Ryuuzaki's solid voice echoed, completely toneless and not without an underlying sense of curious mockery. Raito hated every minute of living with a person who had seen him in the weakest moment of his life. Most of all when that person was Ryuuzaki.

"It's just a suggestion." Raito concluded, deciding never to try to talk to Ryuuzaki again, unless it was absolutely necessary. Had Ryuuzaki cursed and spat at him, Raito would have honestly felt better. But it was the constant disinterest, and the way he was treated like any other nondescript criminal, that he could not stand. "But I suppose you still think I'll kill you in your sleep." Raito said, berating himself for sounding bitterer than he was.

Ryuuzaki was not fazed in the least. Or at least, he didn't seem to be. "Will you?" He asked and let his eyes widen in a display of fixation, never losing a chance to interrogate the suspect. How truly typical.

"So what are you going to do now?" Raito chose to ignore the implication, moving his eyes away from Ryuuzaki and watching the heart ultrasound machines instead. He was getting more and more restless about his future as a criminal "Now that the investigation has fallen apart…am I still a suspect? Will you continue towing me along?"

The pause that followed was more prolonged than Raito was comfortable with. He'd been expecting a solid negative response, since he was sure that Ryuuzaki now believed him too volatile to be Kira. But, now detecting L's hesitation, he turned to watch the other man in disbelief.

"The percentage that Yagami-kun is Kira has increased." Ryuuzaki quizzically said.

The statement fell between them like a column of ice, shattering the fixed parameters upon which Raito had built his world. He looked at Ryuuzaki's stare, devoid of life and devoid of sentiment. The very embodiment of Ryuuzaki himself.

"…what?"

"I said that Yagami-kun's possibility of being Kira has augmented." Ryuuzaki repeated, turning his body to the side and now facing Raito with the entirety of his bandaged skull "Kira is consistently subject to turbulent compulsions, when it comes to a threat to his person."

'_Turbulent compulsions _…like the way Raito had raped his sister in order to alleviate his own problem?

And just like that, Raito realized that he was having_ the_ discussion. The conversation that he'd wished to have all along. This was Ryuuzaki, finally talking about what had happened. Finally! Through proving his innocence to the detective, Raito would be able to solve the constant doubts in his mind, about the nature of Kira's Judgements. Raito considered L the most intelligent man he'd met, despite their many differences. He also appreciated L's analytical obsession – L would assess the situation with just as much cold indifference as Raito. This is why Raito could trust this discussion to give him the ultimate answer to his constant ambivalence.

There was silence, broken only by the steady beats of the ultrasound machines. Ashamed, Raito realized that the machine connected to his heart was beating faster and faster by the second, even though he was taking care to appear completely expressionless on the outside. How ironic that the greatest perfidy of all was his own heartbeat!

"So you're saying that Kira's characteristic, instead of killing criminals…is 'compulsions'?" Raito asked, trying to indirectly squeeze an answer out of Ryuuzaki.

"Yes." Ryuuzaki stated simply, black eyes practically sinking into Raito's skin. Ryuuzaki hadn't really answered the question… but at the same time answered it completely, in typical L fashion.

After dropping his bomb, the detective turned around again, lying supine and completely at ease, eyes finally averted from Raito's face and focused on the ceiling instead. Raito was left to process what he'd heard, trying to find a way to falsify it.

"How so, Ryuuzaki? I thought that the reason for Kira's appeal is his trend of killing criminals." he finally chose to say, trying not to make his admiration for Kira's work betray him. Let Ryuuzaki be the one forced to elaborate.

Ryuuzaki's eyes drilled right into Raito's skull as he continued munching on his candycane, the lethargic face deceptive of his inner sharp attention. "Has Yagami-kun forgotten than Kira doesn't only kill criminals? Despite the image the media are trying to portray, Kira's psychological profile never matched that of a judge…or else we would have looked elsewhere from the start. In fact, much like myself" Ryuuzaki said, his mouth filled with the sweet and his eyes piercing through Raito's thoughts "Kira behaves consistently. Like a petulant child, who rejects – in this case, kills – anyone who opposes him."

"Petulant child…I suppose you have a point Ryuuzaki." Raito's sugar coated voice echoed, giving away nothing of his inner fury. L didn't know what he was saying! Kira always worked with justice as the highest ideal! And the innocent few he had killed had always died for the good of society!

One of the few things that stopped Raito from lashing out was that L had indirectly degraded himself too, in his previous statement.

But Ryuuzaki wasn't finished yet. After a long, rather impassioned lick on the candy, he spoke again "Kira's 'justice' is juvenile in its absolute nature. Not to mention that his sense of justice is inconsistent: according to the situation which he's under, Kira is readily prepared to kill innocents in order to save himself. Remember Lind Taylor, Yagami-kun."

"I thought that man was a convict, wasn't he?" Raito pretended to be naïve.

"Kira did not know that. At the time he killed Taylor, he believed he was killing me – an innocent, who had done no crime but oppose him." Ryuuzaki answered rigidly, without batting an eyelash. "From that moment, Kira's primary goal became to prove his greatness…not to attribute justice."

And the problem with this argument was that, no matter how much Raito wished to deny it… by remembering the last few moments of his life, it was impossible to refuse. Not only that; but his recent revelations about the questionable guilt of criminals and the possible errors of Kira's Judgments was only fuelling his uncertainty.

Had Kira truly been…nothing but a 'petulant child'? Not a divine deliverer, but an ostentatious megalomaniac?

No…that was impossible. True, Raito had learnt his belated lesson when Ryuuku had killed him. He'd been disillusioned to think that he had the Gods on his side…or that he even was God. By the end, he'd learnt his lesson…

But Kira…Kira's ideal New World had been no lie.

…or had it!?

Panicked by the growing doubts, Raito decided to tackle the issue at hand:

"And what does Kira's petulance have to do with…with…" he couldn't bring himself to utter it, unable to accept he'd done it – even in a hallucination.

Ryuuzaki's razor brain, however, caught the implication within milliseconds "Raito-kun was fully prepared to sidestep boundaries upon realizing his own body was under strain."

Raito was too preoccupied with the argument to realize that, perhaps in a small slip, Ryuuzaki had used his first and not his last name. "That doesn't make me petulant. You exaggerate without knowing the full circumstances. You can't possibly conceive what I experienced. I would have gone mad had I not -"

"Why are you telling me this?" Ryuuzaki's voice, uncharacteristic in its suddenness, sliced through the air. Raito was almost glad to see the black eyes twist out of focus for a few seconds. It was almost unreal now, but he could tell, by the unique experience of having shared a body, that Ryuuzaki was becoming anxious….even though he looked nothing like it.

"Because I want you to know I'm not 'compulsive', like Kira. There was a very good reason for what I did." ' Kira is not compulsive either', Raito thought, with spite. 'Kira is the personification of not only an ideal world, but an ideal Judge – a true, flawless Judge who is able to cleanse the world!'

"Yagami-kun is not trying to convince me of anything, because I never asked for specifications. I have already assessed the facts." Ryuuzaki concluded, with a long suction on his sweet, eyes fixed on Raito's face "The one you're trying to convince is yourself."

"You say that because you like the idea of me being a criminal." Raito countered, keeping his tone utterly calm and composed. In fact, in all honesty, he sounded quite jovial. Had one been listening in on the conversation, they would have thought the two rivals were being genial, not having a heated debate.

"The facts cannot be overlooked, despite the will or lack of will to override them." Ryuuzaki then said, with a face that betrayed none of his thoughts. His rough black hair fell over the gauge around his forehead, shading part of his dark eyes and white skin.

Raito realized that, if he truly wanted to prove his true innocence, he'd have to reveal everything. And the continuous torture of this self-doubt, combined with the constant strain of keeping a pretentious mask, made him weary enough to chance a half-hearted attempt at honesty.

"I never claimed I didn't commit the act." Ryuuzaki stared at him, and Raito could practically feel the black eyes closing down like electronic sensors on his every word "What I said was that I didn't intend to commit it." He looked at Ryuuzaki's eyes, completely unresponsive and emotionless, and found no solace. But he didn't give up, and continued "But it was overpowering, and at some point it felt as though I couldn't breathe. I wasn't acting out of compulsion – out of necessity. As though I'd been possessed to do it." He concluded, trying to make the illogical argument sound as logical as possible.

"Then you could have raped me instead. If you had, you would have considered the Law of Retaliation, and selected the victim that could retaliate."

There was complete and utter silence. Nothing could be heard except for the sound of breathing, and the breaking sensation of smouldering, glaring eyes as they clash against each other. Raito hadn't really processed what he had heard. It was so sudden, so utterly unprovoked, that it literally pushed the breath out of his lungs. A few moments of blind confusion later, he could feel his own blood storming upwards. He kept completely silent, trying to buy time and think of a good rebuttal.

"Had Raito-kun been truly desperate, you would have raped even a man. But you made a choice, and preferred to rape a woman. Isn't that so?"

The functions in Raito's brain had been reduced to nothingness. The only thing he could hear was the echo of Ryuuzaki's words. The doubts about his criminal act being a result of enforcement were flickering. Had he…actually had a choice in the matter?

"I…would have never thought of it." He finally decided to say, thinking that it surmised his thesis adequately. Ryuuzaki's eyes seemed to have some sort of newfound darkness in them at that moment, a darkness Raito hadn't noticed or seen before.

"If you'd chosen upon the basis of blind arousal, as you claim, you would have readily assaulted me. I was right in front you, after all." There was no trace of disgust in his voice, only the monotonousness of someone who knows he's winning a flat debate. "But you took the time to choose the one who'd best satisfy you."

Raito floundered, suddenly remembering the few frantic moments of morbid arousal that had preceded his sister's rape. It was true…it never even crossed his mind to- or had it? He'd been desperate, that was for sure. …It hadn't been his fault who he would-

Had he…

Was he…?

The doubt was now starting to consume his mind. Had he really been in control of his actions after all? If he accepted that he'd been in control, then he'd recognize himself as a criminal. And even though that would justify Kira's actions…that would make Raito a rapist.

Oh, he didn't know! It was too blurry, too confusing…and L's eyes were too black as they stared at him, reflecting Raito's own tightly concealed befuddlement.

'What kind of argument is Ryuuzaki using anyway?' Raito thought with disgruntlement. L's argument was completely erroneous – not to mention childish. Did it matter who Raito would rape – if it would be his sister or another man? He'd have raped someone none the less – the crime would be just as severe. Was Ryuuzaki honestly immoral enough to suggest that the only difference between the two rapes was that Ryuuzaki could retaliate where Sayu couldn't? And that if Raito had chosen Ryuuzaki instead of Sayu, then that would not make him a criminal? What kind of logic was that?

So…should Raito be excused for his act or not? Ryuuzaki didn't seem to grasp what Raito was saying: Raito had never wanted to rape _anyone_, regardless of whom. The problem who he'd raped, but that he'd _raped_ in the first place. The reason he'd chosen Sayu was that, in all probability, the memory of her being raped by their father had been too fresh, and it had unconsciously made him think of her as the only possible rape victim.

But now that he thought about it…At that time, he might have just as well raped Ryuuzaki. The difference would have been minuscule, except maybe for the disturbing possibility that Ryuuzaki might have raped him in return. Ugh…This trail of thought was becoming rather disturbing.

But, in either case…Raito's doubt had still not been resolved. In the end, was he or was he not a true criminal? No, he wasn't. He hadn't been acting on his own accord. It should have occurred to him to try harder to keep himself from committing the crime – tying himself up, for example…But in the long term…he hadn't been responsible.

Reaching a dead end, he resulted to the only argument he could depend on. Because, obviously, he could never convince Ryuuzaki that he'd been acting under the influence of demonic powers…but he could still say one more thing.

"Ryuuzaki…you said yourself that you've known me for a long time." He said, frustrated at the doubt he could hear in his own voice, and the fact that he was resorting to getting advice from _Ryuuzaki_, of all people "Do you really believe I'm uncontrollable enough to commit a crime such as this?"

There was a short pause, during which Raito could practically hear the gears sparking in the detective's black-haired skull. And then, L spoke.

"Belief and excuse are irrelevant. The fact has already occurred." Ryuuzaki sweet-filled mouth uttered, his facial muscles going lax. Raito could practically hear the words echo around him as they were spoken, as though they'd been taken directly from his memory...Raito had said those same words on countless occasions, when deciding to kill criminals, after all.

But Ryuuzaki was wrong. Raito, too, had been wrong…things weren't so absolute when it came to crime…Maybe some criminals, like Raito, had never wanted to-

Yes…those words. Raito remembered saying something like them on countless occasions. Usually, he'd also said that, 'as long as the crime has been committed, regardless of the excuses the criminal tries to make, punishment must be attributed'. And Raito had never punished the ones who'd repented for their past crimes – compared to Mikami, he'd even been rather lenient, as any true 'God' should be.

But Raito was no God…that much had been proved by the ending of his life. Even Mikami, his most firm 'believer', had shouted to Raito, clearly and loudly, that as long as Raito was subject to human persecution and the Shinigami's power…he was still no God.

But now, with L's words, Raito realized something. If he'd really been viewing the world as L viewed him – unmoved by all reasons and beliefs – then he couldn't have possibly escaped killing some criminals who had not been truly guilty.

Just as Raito was now. If Raito was killed by Kira, right now, for being a rapist, then Kira's Judgement would not be fair.

It was an undisputed fact in Raito's mind, now, that, as Kira…he'd killed some criminals who might have not been as guilty as they seemed. And since, by the long hours of studying history of law enforcement, Raito had seen that human laws are ineffective to preserve true justice…even some of the criminals he killed, who had been imprisoned under the sovereignty of human law…might have actually been innocent.

Raito…no, Kira…Kira, the ideal judge…had killed innocents.

This revelation, in turn, made Raito's mind susceptible to other possibilities. Since he'd been wrong about Kira's indisputable sense of justice…was it possible that he'd been wrong somewhere else, as well?

Was it possible that what Ryuuzaki had said was true? Was Kira nothing but a 'petulant' murderer, who killed anyone who opposed him…?

But that's impossible. Even though Raito was torturously learning to accept, after Sayu's rape, that he may have misjudged the true nature of criminals…it was impossible for him to accept that Kira…what Kira represented…

Kira was the high ideal. The only force able to construct the New World. Raito had started by eliminating only the criminals.

…But it was true that, after the appearance of L, Near an the others…he really had killed people, only because they'd opposed him.

But it had all been _excusable_ murders…because they were done for the sake of a high ideal world, which would benefit society much more than the individual lives that were sacrificed!

However, if Raito had been wrong about the nature of inexcusable crime, under certain circumstances…was it possible that he was now wrong about the nature of excusable crime as well…?

In other words…had everyone he'd killed under the pretext of the New World…? Had the New World been nothing but a pretext for him to kill the people he didn't like!?

Had he been murdering innocents, just because he'd hated people to oppose him…? Hadn't there been the ideal goal in those sacrifices?

'_Of course their deaths were committed for the sake of the New World…' _he thought firmly and automatically. But after a few seconds later, his heart sinking as he thought of the fact that he'd killed some criminals without attributing real justice, he thought again '_Perhaps I could have…avoided some deaths more than some others.'_

Or was he mistaken again? Was he being too lenient on himself? Was he being 'petulant child'? Now, after raping Sayu, he'd come to realize how criminals think…

In that case…had he been wrong to try and kill criminals altogether? Should he have never convinced himself that some people are better of dead…? Was everything wrong? Was everything contradictory?

He didn't know what an ideal world would look like, anymore, if criminals could simultaneously be victims.

_He didn't know._

And the doubt was killing him.

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**Please read the following note**

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**a/n: Wow. That was a LOT of changes!! I'm sorry I had to change it so much – I know that many reviewers out there really liked the previous ****style, and I have to tell you that the reviews I got for this chapter are some of the best that I've ever gotten in my life! I liked the previous one too…But after reading and rereading and checking and rechecking, I came to the conclusion that it would be better to alter it. I have a much better idea of what I want to do now! By continuing the trial, I'm planning to reach a new goal! I'm going to make it turn out better than before. The romance is going to intensify again, and this time, it's going to spawn more subtly and naturally!**

**Why did I make the changes? For one thing, Raito was OOC. Yes, yes! I know that most readers have said that he wasn't …But seriously, guys, he was. And after I received some feedback and started rereading the whole chapter, I realized that…at some point, he was WILDLY OOC. **

**Although we all would like him to become a good guy, ****Raito would NEVER, EVER get a Sudden Romantic Epiphany about loving Ryuuzaki and about being a criminal– that's a classic fangirl trap, and I fell into it head first. By making him renounce Kira, I'm basically turning this fic into just another average Raito/Ryuuzaki, where Raito is going to repent just like that! **

**The very magic of DN is that, no matter how MUCH we want him to, Raito NEVER repents. I'm going to give this quality to this story – make readers hate and love him at the same time. Hate him for being unrepentant and love him for…well… being unrepentant.**

**I fell into this trap because I was trying to do too many things at once: have them fall in love plus bring the trial to an end plus turn Raito into a good guy…it seemed rushed. Albeit it might have been a DN fangirl's puppy…it was overdramatized and**** not faithful to the manga.**

**And I can't live with that! I've sworn to myself that I'll make a fanfic as much in-character as I can. And not only that – when I finish this story, I want to reach a moral conclusion about Kira. I realize that most people want to read soap opera style fanfics (which is why you see some very average stories get 9843 reviews, or something) but I think of what I'm doing as literature, and in my opinion literature, no matter how yaoi-fan, must have some themes except 'yay!! Raito and L got together!!'. By doing these changes now, I'm going to make the story better than it ever was! PLEASE trust me on this, and show me your trust by staying tuned. **

**Imagine what the fic would look like if we actually manage to make in-character Kira!Raito believably fall in love with in-character L!Ryuuzaki! ****Until now, we've all lived with thinking that OOC Raito/L will never happen. Making Raito/Ryuuzaki NOT be OOC…**

…

**L****et's do the impossible!**


	8. Jigoku Ekusupiriensuto

**Okey, dokey! First thing's first! I must apologize and ask all the people who have not yet read the new version of the seventh chapter to please reread it – some very important changes have been made, and you won't be able to follow the story if you don't see them. There are also explanations about why I changed the chapter etc!**

**Now on with the fic! This is officially the last chapter of physical torture. Hopefully, the readers will also realize that physical torture in this story serves as an allusion to another kind of torture: Raito's beliefs and mentality are being put to the test!**

**For all the Ryuuzaki-lovers out there: please don't be put out when L is described as 'ugly' or 'annoying' in the narration, because I'm doing it on purpose for two reasons.**

**Reason one: Obata intended Ryuuzaki's character design to show he is weird/abnormal, not kawaii. Remember the scene in Todai University, where the other characters are commenting on Ryuuzaki's appearance. They think he's not a representative bishounen. Even though we all find him adorable, he is technically not _supposed _to be seen that way in the other characters' eyes, so I'm trying to keep that quality in the story.**

**Reason two: I'm trying to make Raito think of Ryuuzaki as ugly/freaky now, so I can later show how Raito's perception of Ryuuzaki will change and he'll start thinking of L's quirks (which he now finds 'ugly' and 'annoying') as beautiful/special and attractive. Just bear with me, guys! The romance is coming, I swear!**

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**I don't really need to ask you to excuse the errors, right? (!)**

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**Hell Experienced**

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"Have you ever studied Shakespeare, Yagami-kun?"

It was said in that characteristic lethargic tone, which suggests that the speaker is actually anything but indifferent. It was the tone of a trained interrogator, who begins his accusations with a complete non sequitur, in an effort to disorient his opponent.

But, much like tennis, this was a game for two.

Raito processed the question carefully, scanning the words for some hidden meaning. After all, the only reason Ryuuzaki had ever deigned to speak to him was to interrogate him, in some indirect fashion.

After a few moments, deciding that the only way he'd discover L's newest goal was to play along, Raito threw the ball in Ryuuzaki's court.

"Now, now, Ryuuzaki…there's no need to be insulting. After all, what educated person has not studied the Bard?" Raito answered, in smug, fluent English, with just an imperceptible trace of foreign accent.

It was quite amusing to see Ryuuzaki's intrigued expression at Raito's usage of words. Apparently, he hadn't expected the auburn-haired man to be so familiar with the colloquial appellations of Shakespeare. His black eyes became fixed on Raito's hazel ones, and his long fingers, wrapped around an oversized lollipop, convulsed spastically as he pondered.

"I didn't mean to renegade your intelligence, Yagami-kun" the detective said, and Raito noticed L had the distinctive British accent when he spoke English – and he spoke English flawlessly. "But even though most people are familiar with Shakespeare's most popular theatrical plays, fewer are acquainted with his more obscure works."

Raito waited to see where this conversation was going. There must be some implication that Ryuuzaki was trying to make – Raito was sure of it, but he didn't yet know exactly what the hint was. And there was only one way to find out: keep playing the game.

"Which particular one did you have in mind?" Raito asked, eager to show Ryuuzaki that he would not be disoriented by the use of a foreign language. L accepted this challenge and continued speaking in English as well, with his British vowel elisions, the characteristic Anglosaxonic sibilance, and all the flair of a native speaker.

"The problem play, '_Measure for measure'_" L answered, offering the information with a directness that was quite suspicious in itself.

Raito's mind ignited immediately. 'Problem play' is literature jargon for a tragicomedy, he thought. And the term 'tragicomedy' refers to a play whose nature is unclear in its mixed signals. On the one hand it may seem like an amusing comedy with a happy ending…but on the other hand it includes the thought-provoking, powerful deep emotions of any good tragedy.

The most celebrated of the particular playwright's 'problem plays' had always been the ever-popular and extravagant '_Tempest'_, which came to Raito's mind immediately. However, the play Ryuuzaki was referring to…

Raito cursed himself. He knew he should have read it at that time! But since it truly had been rather obscure, and he had never been particularly fond of Shakespeare's emphasis on emotion, he'd bypassed the opportunity to read the particular play. How could he have known that, because of not having read it, he'd lose face to a doppelganger Ryuuzaki one day?

Raito gritted his teeth and pasted a trained 'friendly' smile on his face "No, I can't say I have read it, unfortunately." He concluded, unwilling to ask Ryuuzaki for information about it, lest he reveal his extreme awareness of L using the play as a means of interrogation.

"That's a shame, Yagami-kun." Ryuuzaki concluded, and then stopped looking at the red-and-white swirls of his lollipop, giving Raito his absolute attention "I'm sure you'd have enjoyed it." His black irises weighed Raito's every reaction "It's a play about justice."

After a small pause, during which Raito finally started to understand what kind of statement Ryuuzaki was trying to make, the suspect finally spoke. "That sounds very interesting." In this way, his answer would sound ambiguous enough to not be associated with Kira. After all, had he been Kira, he would have pounced on the opportunity to talk about justice. But on the other hand, not rising to the bait at all would have seemed suspicious as well. Best keep his attitude as 'genial' and 'open-minded' as possible. Years of experience had taught him that this was the only way to ward off Ryuuzaki's constant indirect assaults.

The problem with L – at least the real one – was that he liked to play with words just as he did with tennis: fast, lethal, and possibly dirty. The detective's most distinctive strategy was to wait until the opponent was relatively relaxed…and then strike with all power. Ryuuzaki was the kind of man who would never attack without being sure he'd win. He had never had any nobility, no sense of idealism… Raito thought this with self-righteous smugness. At least Raito had been _forced_, by the various circumstances, to be hypocritical. What excuse did Ryuuzaki have?

"It is" L assured Raito that the play was indeed 'interesting'. Immediately, by the piercing way Ryuuzaki seemed to utter his words, Raito realized that he should get his hands on this book as soon as possible. There must be some reason why Ryuuzaki was referring to it, after all….and Raito was willing to bet that it was something to do with Kira. As much as he despised falling into Ryuuzaki's verbal traps, it was always prudent to stay knowledgeable. He'd have to read that book, if he wanted to be on equal footing with the opponent.

But it was rather difficult to acquire it right now. He looked around at the hotel room they were located in, surrounded by warm pastel hues, crème curtains and the glow of computer monitors. All around them, the new members of the Kira Investigation – a fusion of people of different ethnicities who'd been recruited by Ryuuzaki – were working frantically to make up for all the lost time.

They'd spent so many days recuperating after the earthquake that they'd lost many prominent actions of Kira's. Raito admired the fact that, even though Ryuuzaki had literally been watching him like a hawk for the last three weeks and had seen Raito commit no suspicious acts, he _still_ persisted in his absolute belief that Raito was Kira. Not that Raito could blame him, actually. After going through the extended interrogation session with the demon-Ryuuzaki, he had finally realized how fragile Yagami Raito's innocence had always been, from Ryuuzaki's perspective.

Not to mention that Ryuuzaki had always had a personal vendetta with him. Raito suspected that L, much like a 'petulant child', had always had a gut instinct that Raito was Kira, and didn't want to admit that this gut instinct was wrong.

And now here they were, continuing the vendetta, in a world that Raito wasn't still sure was a hallucination or not.

After all, everything around them seemed so real…so utterly normal: Raito was now able to read all books, computer screens, leaflets and nutritional tags on the back of food cans. Even the television steadily worked, providing the world with the programs and soap operas that Raito remembered from 2004. There were no marionettes in the bedroom, no clocks ticking backward, no demons out to interrogate him, and no…no Hands. Ryuuzaki was still suspicious of Raito, the investigation was still progressing – now without the help of Watari and Ryuuzaki's other minions – and Raito was still, unexplainably, entangled in his own nemesis's life.

In fact, the only difference with the real world that Raito remembered was the wreckage of the earthquake and the rape of Sayu.

But everything had now become so confusing: not only his understanding of the world…but mostly his doubts about the nature of Kira and the nature of his own actions.

But it was completely logical that he was being plagued by doubts. It had all been completely overwhelming for him: first he'd been on top of the platform, being thrown to the Hands…then there was that long interrogation thing, where he kept switching bodies…then he'd witnessed his own father raping Sayu…and then he'd raped the girl himself. And now, a month after having raped her, he was sitting on the settee next to Ryuuzaki, staring at computer screens and analyzing Yotsuba's employees resumes, as though nothing had ever happened. And this was most confusing at all. Even though, technically, nothing had changed, Raito somehow felt as though everything had changed. He was in an internal panic – who was Kira? Was he a murderer or a saviour? And who was Raito? A criminal who doesn't have the right to judge other criminals?

And even if Sayu's rape had been a hallucination, it had served as the instigation to make Raito wonder about his actions in the read world. Had he misjudged everything? Had he misjudged…the nature of justice?

Impossible! There was one thing that Raito had always believed: it would be better if some people did not exist in the world…However…he couldn't say the same thing for the innocents he'd killed. And although he'd claimed, at that time, that he'd killed them for the common good…he wasn't so sure anymore. He wasn't sure who he was, and what his goals were.

The most frightening of all, however, was that, since everything around him was so naturalistic, he was starting to have doubts about his own sanity. Had he dreamt the whole thing up? Had the Hands really been a huge, extremely realistic, nightmare? Had the interrogation been a product of his own subconscious?

Looking at Ryuuzaki now, at the occult way in which he held his cellphone – the detective always tried to leave as few fingertips as possible on objects, since everything was an instrument of observation – Raito realized that this man was an exact carbon copy of the Ryuuzaki in Raito's memory. Ryuuzaki acted, talked and looked just as Raito had remembered. And since Raito had spent two years listening to every word that came out of L's syrup-covered mouth, it was only natural that Raito knew Ryuuzaki's attitude very well.

And now, by looking at the man next to him, he could safely say that this L was exactly like the normal L he'd always known. Robotic, frustrating, obstinate and odd.

The only difference of this simulacrum Ryuuzaki with the real L was that the real one would never, under any circumstances, remove the handcuffs. However, Raito had never seen what the real L's reactions would be if they had to undergo a sudden earthquake and if the detective ever saw Raito rape someone under his very nose. Therefore, it was logical to assume that if the real Ryuuzaki had been put in the same situations, he would have reacted in the same way as this hallucination.

And what had amazed Raito the most, truth be told, was not that Ryuuzaki seemed to keep his distance from him. It was that L had not really tried to distance himself any _further_. Had Ryuuzaki been the one to rape Sayu, Raito would have never wanted to see the detective. But L, after seeing Raito rape someone – his own sister no less – only reacted with mild disgruntlement. In Raito's mind, this only reinforced the impression that Ryuuzaki was not as committed to justice as he wanted people to believe.

In fact, Raito thought with spite, if Kira could be deemed a murderer instead of a judge, then the same could be said for L. The only difference was that, where Kira felt powerful enough to take matters into his own hands, Ryuuzaki would never want to get his own hands dirty. Instead of actively killing criminals, he was content to 'use' criminals already convicted with the death penalty for his own purposes. In fact, L's most popular phrase, which could be admirably compared to Kira's ideal of the New World, was that 'I know, it's a shame…but it will serve the greater good'.

If Kira was ever really a murderer, Raito thought in scorching ire, then L was twice the killer! He didn't even care for the rigidity of laws, since he was completely content to work with criminals. L's goal had never been to attribute justice…it had been to win the game.

And he was so obsessed with winning that he was prepared to bypass the laws if need be. Raito recalled what had happened a week ago, when they'd finally left the clinic: Raito had still been accused of raping Sayu. Even though Sayu had firmly denied everything, claiming that Raito had never laid a hand on her, Ryuuzaki's testament had also been needed to clear Raito of all charges. Since L had been the only witness present while Raito raped Sayu, the only way Raito could be cleared was if L agreed to support him.

Naturally, based on this, Raito had expected to see the gates of prison very soon, since he was sure Ryuuzaki would surrender him.

He should have known, really, that the very contradiction of Ryuuzaki's nature would never allow anything so predictable to happen. Not only had L not accused Raito, but when L realized that Sayu herself had pressed no charges, he made no effort to amend this and attribute justice. He'd kept a completely indifferent stance instead, not blaming but not redeeming Raito either. Eventually, the authorities had been forced to accept Raito's innocence, given that neither the victim nor the witness had revealed a crime. The overwhelming evidence against Raito's favour was then attributed to mysterious factors and never discussed again.

Albeit reluctantly grateful to L for not having condemned him, Raito was also privately disgusted that the elite-detective, the supposed pivot of justice – besides Kira –, who supposedly wanted to prevent crime from happening, would not surrender a rapist to be punished.

Perhaps Ryuuzaki had realized that Raito's crime had been…excusable…?

No matter what, Raito was not foolish enough to believe that Ryuuzaki had protected him because of friendship, or some other such reason. L had some sort of motive for wanting to keep Raito around.

Indeed. When Raito had finally gathered the nerve to actually ask L why he hadn't surrendered a rapist to prison, L had answered unabashedly, without batting an eyelash that "I know it's a shame…but now the percentage that Yagami-kun is Kira has risen once more. And if Yagami-kun truly is Kira, then it's important I stay close to him and prove his guilt. Proving Yagami-kun is Kira, in the long term, will outweigh a lesser criminal offence."

When L had said this, Raito had stayed silent for a few moments, then answered with a meticulously balanced smile "Then you're suggesting that you don't want to convict me now….because you think I'll be convicted much worse later on?"

And L had blinked very slowly and said "…I don't think of it that way…but I suppose that is part of the procedure."

Raito had said nothing, poising his face in a fake, supposedly amused smile.

Now, as he sat there next to Ryuuzaki on the couch, he felt the weight of the handcuff on his left wrist, even though it was not there. He was tied to this man still, even though there was no chain to verify it. The only difference with before, for Ryuuzaki, was that the chances that Raito was Kira had increased. As though the ordeal with Sayu had never happened.

There was no shock at the rape, from L's part, no manifestations of disgust. Even the absence of the handcuffs, as Ryuuzaki had explained at some point, was not due to resentment on his part. L claimed that he had never reconnected the chain because, after the earthquake, he had realized the handcuffs could present great difficulties in times of emergency. And Raito truly believed that this indeed was L's true reason for not retying them. He just couldn't see L caring for anything except winning the game. Even if winning meant being tied to an incestuous rapist, Ryuuzaki was prepared to do it.

After he'd seen L refuse the chance to surrender a rapist – whose crime he had witnessed with his own black eyes – to justice, he'd permanently stopped seeing Ryuuzaki as any instrument of justice at all.

L was not even a judge with differences from Raito. He wasn't a judge at all. He didn't care about the nature of crimes…only about the hunt for criminals. The only thing Ryuuzaki wanted was to sniff out his opponent. In fact, he couldn't have cared less about justice, Raito thought in annoyance.

For some reason, it aggravated him when people bypassed the matter of justice as though it was irrelevant to their lives. Take Ryuuzaki, for example. He thought he was above all the 'moral issues' of justice…but his stubborn incomprehension prevented him from seeing Kira's true motives and becoming Kira's supporter. And Raito was sure that, had Ryuuzaki had even an iota of morality, he would realize the nobility in Raito's cause. And then Raito would never have been forced to kill innocents, and he would never have wrecked Kira's reputation.

But that was exactly L's problem: he couldn't understand Kira's ideals because he didn't _care_ about justice. Raito had stayed long enough with the other man when they were alive, to realize how Ryuuzaki viewed his own life. Being the world's greatest detective, for Ryuuzaki, was _just a job_. A job that he liked, because it was challenging, but it was still what he did for a living. When capturing criminals, L was following a certain methodology – he was there to perform a methodical intensive hunt of criminals, not talk about the ineffectiveness of the law. Emotion, ideals, morality and justice had never had anything to do with it, when it came to L. Ryuuzaki was there to perform a function – just like the mailman who distributes the letters to homes without caring what the letters contain – be it anthrax or perfumed love letters – Ryuuzaki was the deliverer of criminals to prisons.

Unlike Raito, who had strained to understand society and improve it, Ryuuzaki had just found a suitable occupation, which would excuse his heartlessness, and used it to exploit his thirst for hunting. Raito had become Kira because he'd started a crusade – regardless of the…mistakes he might have made. But what was L's excuse for pressuring society? Typically, he claimed that he wanted to attribute justice…but Raito had never really seen Ryuuzaki attribute any justice, when they'd been alive. L would supposedly wait for the opportune moment – until he'd catch Kira – to attribute justice. But all Raito had seen L ever do was employ all kinds of degenerate sources in order to capture his opponent.

Suddenly, Raito was jerked away from his trance of angry thoughts, when he heard Ryuuzaki's stagnant voice echo from the left "If you ever come around to reading it, I'd suggest you pay attention to the second act. I'm keen on hearing Yagami-kun's thoughts on it."

Raito's eyes narrowed automatically. He'd figured out years ago Ryuuzaki's ability to read and memorize long texts in extravagant speed. Ryuuzaki had kept doing it with Yotsuba employee resumes, where he'd devoured fifteen sheets of paper when Raito had only read seven – and it had driven Raito up the wall. However, based on L's elephant memory, he could trust Ryuuzaki's words to imply that there really was something in the second act of the particular book worth looking at.

But since Raito was prohibited from exiting the hotel without Ryuuzaki's accompaniment, there was no way he could get his hands on the text by visiting a bookstore. Careful to let Ryuuzaki hear him, he asked a member of the investigation, an American flunky who went by the name of 'Richards', to buy him the book the next time he'd exit the building. Richards agreed with a nod, taking the paper with the book's title and shoving it in his back pocket without looking at it, then proceeding to sit down on an armchair.

Raito felt his eyebrow twitch, but ignored it. He didn't know exactly where Ryuuzaki had found these people. L had probably contacted the secret-Headquarters orphanage back in England when they'd still been in the clinic, but Raito didn't understand how all these people had appeared. Probably something to do with Ryuuzaki's ever-cryptic past. Since neither the Japanese National Police not the FBI wanted to oppose Kira anymore, Ryuuzaki's new band of misfits was comprised by ex-FBI and ex-CIA agents, some new underground professional criminals and some mercenaries. They were all just as committed to the cause as Souichirou Yagami's group had been. But the absence of Matsuda's idiotic asides, as well as Souichirou's fabricated courage, was very strong. No such prominent characters existed in the new group, where L's authority appeared absolute and unquestioned.

Raito was willing to bet millions of yen that those people, whoever they were, had worked with Ryuuzaki before. That's why they never questioned L's motives. Because, obviously, they'd seen first hand how ultimately he could succeed, and they trusted his every decision blindly.

Raito was keenly reminded of Near and Mello. Despite their cooperation and joined efforts, and despite the fact that they had been the ones to capture Raito instead of Ryuuzaki, in Raito's mind, the most prominent figure had always been Ryuuzaki himself. Besides, Near and Mello had always had an advantage over Ryuuzaki: they'd known of the existence of the Death Note all along, and they knew what they were looking for. Had Ryuuzaki been aware of the existence of the Death Note, he would have surpassed his scions.

Perhaps it was because Raito had met the detective when he was still a teenager – despite an incredibly mature teenager – and Ryuuzaki had been the first of all these genius brains to appear in Raito's life. Even so, in Raito's mind, Ryuuzaki would always remain the very personification of the letter "L". As though, after having seen Ryuuzaki – despite all the aggravating habits – he couldn't imagine anyone else as the great detective. Even when Raito himself had been working in Ryuuzaki's shoes, talking to Near from behind the white screen, the letter "L" had been stark and threatening in front of his eyes. Raito had felt, deep down in his gut, a subtle disquietude whenever he'd looked at it. Even though he reassured himself again and again that Ryuuzaki was nowhere to be found.

And, truth be told, now in the afterlife, this sense of persecution had revived full force. He'd thought he'd escaped the constant vigilance, he'd thought he'd gotten rid of Ryuuzaki's permanent suspicion for good.

But even in his afterlife, he was still forced to go and buy Shakespeare's books and try to solve Ryuuzaki's riddles.

Oh, there was no question of worrying, to be sure. Raito was confident he would win once more. He'd outsmarted Ryuuzaki in the past, after all.

But for once, his need to relieve himself from the panic was greater than his need to win. He wished that L could just leave him alone to think quietly and calmly about the things he'd done, without having the added worry of winning games.

For once.

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They spent each night in the same way they always had. Reading and taking notes. The only difference with before was that they'd now hear the others' snores echo from around the hotel room – this had never happened in the Headquarters' building, where everyone had their own bedroom.

But the pile of work was good for him, Raito decided. It was helpful that he had something to think about except for Sayu, the rape and the horrible doubts that had consumed his mind about Kira. Now sinking himself in an ocean of names and numerical values, even if he was technically working against Kira, he had the chance to temporarily forget about what he'd done, chalking it all up to a nightmarish hallucination.

Perhaps this blissful oblivion was the very thing that made Ryuuzaki so devoted to his work, although Raito didn't think that Ryuuzaki had any memories to be running away from. With that obsessive way L kept biting his fingernails, Raito sarcastically thought that the detective might actually be trying to forget his own existence by devoting himself to that of other people.

Contrary to what his father had thought, Raito quite enjoyed the long hours of exhaustive work in front of the computer, regardless of the many sleepless nights. In that aspect, he was glad that he'd finally found in Ryuuzaki a person – if Ryuuzaki could be called a person and not a vegetable – who could sympathize and share his obsession with work. In fact, Raito was currently enjoying another one of those long nights, with only the sound of Ryuuzaki's slurps for company – this time in was chocolate fudge, and Raito had also had a piece.

He was currently creating this program, which ideally would succeed in creating a comparison of random statistics. Then he could feed all the data from the Kira investigation into it, and he'd come up with a simulation about the exact differences the victims of the current Kira had, as compared to the victims of before. Technically, Raito already knew that Higuchi was Kira…but he couldn't say that to Ryuuzaki lest L start to suspect him extremely. Besides, the process of discovering the criminal was always the most enjoyable part of the hunt – Raito could agree with L on that much.

It was nearly a quarter to four in the morning, for the third sleepless night in a row, and Raito suddenly got a flashback about how he'd used to spend nights in much the same fashion, hunched above his Death Note and writing names frantically.

The Death Note…writing…people dying…he hadn't thought about that in a while.

The flash of memory was so sudden that he froze, fingers stopping their rhythmical click on his keyboard. Blinking a couple of times, he recovered and started typing away again, having come up with an idea for a new algorhythm. Completely absorbed in his work as he was, the sudden voice that echoed from his left almost made him gasp from surprise.

"Watari"

Ryuuzaki called, with a completely natural voice, which, for some reason, sent a chill through Raito's spine. Raito barely turned his eyes to see Ryuuzaki's face, careful not to move his head and show Ryuuzaki he was watching. Indeed, as he'd suspected, Ryuuzaki appeared completely immersed in what he was reading, clicking his computer mouse.

"Bring me some more toffee, would you?"

Raito stayed completely silent. L had obviously been too focused on his work to remember that Watari…wasn't exactly around any more. And Raito really didn't know how to tell Ryuuzaki this, under the circumstances. He decided to turn back to his own monitor, ignoring the whole situation. L would remember again soon, anyway.

"Watari?" Ryuuzaki called again, after another minute or two, and Raito patiently waited, feeling a bit odd about sitting next to a person who was calling a dead man's name. Combined with raving names of ghosts, the computer glow that fell on Ryuuzaki's profile made him look a tad insane. Raito refocused on his work, determined to wait it out. Ryuuzaki had these crazy outbreaks once in a while…Raito keenly remembered the way the detective had been raving incomprehensively about 'the bells' before he'd died in the real world.

And sure enough, after a few moments, Raito heard the pattern of L's breath switch slightly, and realized that the detective had come back to reality. After that, Raito could almost hear Ryuuzaki's shoulders falling even more than usual, at the realization that, indeed, Watari was dead.

A few moments later, Raito felt the pillows of the couch sink under him. He turned around slowly, trying to work the kinks out of his neck, and watched L shuffle ineffectively next to him, as though trying to make himself comfortable. Upon becoming aware of Raito's gaze, Ryuuzaki raised his eyes to the other man. The blue flicker of the computer screens made the shadows dance upon the detective's haggard sallow face.

"Sorry for the trouble, Raito-kun, but I must get some toffee."

This time Raito was careful enough to notice Ryuuzaki's unconscious use of his first name. It was the first time in all these days that L had called him 'Raito' – which only proved that the detective was more disoriented than he let show. It took a few moments of L's scrutinizing stare before Raito realized what the other man wanted.

"Oh…yes, of course." Ryuuzaki had asked Raito to follow him. They had made an agreement, after all, that they would act as though they were wearing handcuffs, even without actually wearing them.

So Raito stood up after the detective, and followed the other to the small mini-bar, which was adjacent to the sitting room. This was an expensive suite with a bar, after all. Ryuuzaki had claimed that they'd reside in hotels again until he could refurbish the Headquarters building.

It was very dark, so Raito took extra care not to stumble on someone's body as he walked – the most members of the investigation were lying in snoring bundles on the floor, littered around the room. Thankfully, Ryuuzaki's white shirt was a beacon for the computer radiation, and it helped Raito follow.

Finally they reached the mini-bar, and Ryuuzaki lost no time. He opened the fridge with the metallic door, and a golden glow immediately illuminated part of the room. Several sweet appetizers, including Ryuuzaki's various brands of pudding, were revealed. There was also some take-out sushi – rather tasty, this time – for the other members of the investigation and Raito to eat.

Raito watched Ryuuzaki's long white-clad arm bury itself in the fridge, hearing various shuffling sounds. He couldn't really see what was happing, since Ryuuzaki's kneeling form was hiding his view. Raito patiently waited for the detective to select the dessert of his choice, and then they could go back to their work, as usual.

But that wasn't what happened, this time.

Suddenly, Ryuuzaki's form jerked, standing back up. Raito heard the slam of the refrigerator door and carefully watched L's white back, covered at the top by tufts of barely discernible black hair.

"Ryuuzaki…?" Raito asked, straining not to let himself sound as perplexed as he was. What had happened to faze the cold detective so much?

"…there's no toffee." Ryuuzaki then declared, with an air even more rigid and toneless than usual. Raito was confused: Ryuuzaki had never been picky before. As far as Raito could recall, all the detective had ever wanted was for the food to be sweet – regardless of type.

"Well we'll order some more tomorrow." Raito answered carelessly, showing that he'd expected Ryuuzaki to realize this by himself "Until then, can't you have something else? We have to go back to work." after a few brief moments of watching the back of Ryuuzaki's silent black head, he saw the detective's shoulders bounce, as L turned to look at the fridge again. Raito was amazed to see the wide-eyed look of concentration on his face, a look he usually reserved for interrogating Raito. But now the detective was staring at the fridge as though it would offer the solution to the Kira case. What was going on? Had Ryuuzaki gone completely off his rocket at last?

"…yes. Fair enough." Ryuuzaki finally concluded and Raito suspiciously watched the detective bend his wrist to open the refrigerator door. Without even bothering to do another survey of the contents, L's long fingers randomly grabbed the first sweet thing they could latch onto – a white chocolate bar, as luck would have it – and closed the door gently.

Without a second glance at the offending piece of machinery, Ryuuzaki turned to Raito, as though expecting to hear something. When a few moments of unexplained and silent staring had passed, L walked again, passing by Raito and heading towards the computers. Raito followed quietly, wondering what the hell had gotten into the other, and whether it had anything to do with Watari. The moment he'd sat back on his couch, however, and came face to face with his computer screen, all other thoughts evaporated from Raito's head, and he devoted himself to his tasks once more.

The only other sign of life that came from Ryuuzaki was the crumpling sounds of paper chocolate wrapping, which he kept trying to remove in his awkward way of touching things. However, Raito was too focused on the job to truly weigh the other man's reactions.

Two days later, Raito suddenly remembered that Ryuuzaki had never ordered for more toffee, after all. Well so much for random cravings. Raito doubted it was ever about the toffee at all.

Seeing Ryuuzaki biting his thumb again, Raito thought it was probably about Watari, who would never be there to deliver the toffee again.

-

'_Wonderful'_ Raito thought sourly, as he closed the thin book entitled "Measure for Measure_"_. '_As if my own doubts weren't enough…now Ryuuzaki's trying to fuck with my brain as well.'_

And, after a very long time, it was working. Ryuuzaki really was confusing Raito's thoughts.

"Measure for Measure", ordered not in Japanese translation but in the original Shakespearean language, was just as Ryuuzaki had said: "a play about justice". It was about Lord Angelo, the sanctimonious deputy of a Duke, who believed it proper to condemn people to death for the sin of fornication. Claudio, a gentleman, was then condemned to death by Angelo for having impregnated his fiancée. Seeing this, Claudio's pure sister, the novice Isabella, decided to go and plead for her brother's life to the heartless Lord Angelo. Ironically, the self-righteous Lord Angelo was revealed to be a hypocrite when he fell for Isabella, and blackmailed her into committing the sin of fornication with him to save her brother's life.

Raito caught Ryuuzaki's hunched figure from the corner of his eye, and strained to keep his face trained in a flawless mask of indifference.

Remembering L's words, the chestnut haired man leafed through the pages, until he reached the first scene of the second act. There, poised in fluid script in front of his eyes, he saw the character 'Escalus', an aristocrat adviser of the deputy, trying to change Lord Angelo's mind about condemning Claudio to death. In the text, Escalus prompted Lord Angelo to think of fornication as a human weakness. Had Lord Angelo been in Claudio's shoes, would he have thought it prudent to condemn a man to death for a sin as common and harmless as sexual contact? Angelo then answered swiftly that he would condemn himself to death if he was a fornicator, the irony being, of course, that when Angelo really will find himself in Claudio's shoes later, not only will he not condemn himself, but he will be revealed as a total hypocrite.

Reluctantly, Raito saw the comparisons that Ryuuzaki wanted him to draw. Ryuuzaki believed that Raito was Kira. And if Raito was Kira, then Kira, just like Lord Angelo, had retained the profile of a frigid impartial judge, condemning criminals without feeling empathy for their crime. And then – the great irony! – just like Lord Angelo who found himself under the whim of his human nature, Raito had also fallen victim to his human needs and committed a crime by raping Sayu. And after committing the crime, like Angelo, not only had Raito wanted to be punished by death, but he'd denied ever committing the crime in the first place.

What Ryuuzaki was trying to do, by showing him this, was to tell him that if he was Kira, then he was a hypocrite.

Under other circumstances, Raito would have rejected this piece of writing within minutes, dismissing it as a piece of fiction which was not applicable to Kira's idealistic goals and pragmatic situations. But, unfortunately for Raito, his own doubts had been plaguing him for far too long by now. The memory of Sayu's warm skin around his hips was still razor sharp, and the more he remembered it, the more he felt unfit to judge himself, much less other people.

The second act, that Ryuuzaki had wanted him to pay attention to, was laced with Lord Angelo's and Isabella's heated debates about whether fornication is a real sin, and whether or not a crime can be pardoned in some cases. For Raito, it all struck a bit too close to home.

Ryuuzaki, the absolute slime, must have known this, of course. This was probably why he was now watching Raito's every move like a hawk. If Raito gave any sign of anxiousness or disgruntlement, Ryuuzaki would take it as a sign that he was Kira. And rightly so, since only if Raito were Kira would the myth of this text bother him.

"Just as you said, Ryuuzaki" Raito suddenly spoke, obstinately keeping a small fake smile on his face "This play is to my liking. Not the best of Shakespeare's dramaturgical techniques, but it still tackles some interesting philosophical issues."

"I'm glad Yagami-kun thinks so." Ryuuzaki said, having dropped all pretence of looking at the computer screen and now staying openly focused on Raito's reactions, just as he did whenever they talked about Kira. "The characters' quest for justice gives the plotline some more depth."

"Indeed." Raito agreed, keen on not commenting on the text. However, Ryuuzaki would not let it rest.

"So what does Yagami-kun believe?" L asked, unwrapping the new – caramel coloured – lollipop that he took in his hands "Was Lord Angelo correct to judge others with such severity?"

But Raito, having completed a heated debate of eleven hours with a demon, had developed a brain so accustomed to the ambivalence of arguments that he was prepared to use Ryuuzaki's game against him. Besides, the theme of the play itself was unclear on this point.

"Well" Raito began, surprised to realize that, somewhere deep inside him, he was enjoying this discussion "Despite the fact that it could easily be claimed that Angelo later acted as a hypocrite to save his own skin, his initial goals to promote justice were noble. Listen to this, for example." He flipped to the correct page, and began to read Angelo's words toward Escalus.

"'_Tis one thing to be tempted (Escalus)_

_Another thing to fall: I not deny_

_The jury passing on the prisoner's life_

_May in the sworn twelve have a thief, or two _

_Guiltier than him they try; what's open made to Justice,_

_That Justice seizes; what knows the Laws_

_That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very pregnant,_

_The jewel that we find, we stoop, and take't,_

_Because we see it; but what we do not see,_

_We tread upon and never think of it._

_You may not so extenuate his offence, _

_For I have had such faults …"(1)_

Raito concluded his recitation and looked at Ryuuzaki, who was tapping his thumb against his lower lip. Then, the detective spoke "Well, Raito-kun?" he asked, with narrowed eyes "Is it not hypocritical of Angelo not to apply his own rules to himself later in the play? Even though he spawns self-righteous ideals, his actions prove that he is willing to bypass belief in order to save his reputation, and his life."

Raito narrowed his eyes as well, catching Ryuuzaki's implications at once. It wasn't only about the way Raito had raped Sayu, but about the way Kira had killed Lind Taylor and all the FBI agents, and all the other innocents just to save himself. But it still wasn't the same thing. Angelo was a clear hypocrite, centralizing his attention on his own reputation. Kira had not been like that – he'd done everything for the common good.

"Even so, Ryuuzaki, you can't deny that Angelo's initial outlook on things, which I just read, is sensible." He concluded "If we always worried about the moral state of the jury, then there could be no trial. Justice can only be applied in crimes that are made common knowledge. Regardless of the skeletons a judge may have in his closet, that does not mean that he is unable to attribute justice according to a law."

"Yes, Raito-kun" Ryuuzaki countered in seconds "But 'what knows the Laws that thieves do pass on thieves'?" he quoted, staring at Raito with rapt attention.

"Regardless of the effectiveness of the Laws themselves" Raito said, shutting the book and staring Ryuuzaki down "The history of law has proved that a sense of justice can only be created when a common law – however flawed – is followed. And so, the 'obvious jewels', or crimes that come to the open can be 'picked up', or judged, regardless of the judge's own faults. After all, as long as we don't see a vice, we 'tread upon and never think of it', as often happens with the vices of judges." Raito quoted back, not believing he was actually supporting the very system of laws he had scorned all his life, just to convince himself – not Ryuuzaki, but primarily himself –that Kira's actions were justified.

"In this way, a judge may be much guiltier than the accused criminal. But as long as his crimes cannot be revealed…he cannot be judged." The auburn-haired man finished.

A small silence followed, during which Raito watched Ryuuzaki's eyes lose focus. Obviously, he was internally evaluating Raito's reactions as compared to Kira's reactions. Unfortunately, having become impassioned with getting his arguments across, only now did Raito realize that his attitude might have let show his inner confusion and verify his identity as Kira. Deciding to amend this, the suspect decided he should present the faulty side of Angelo as well, to convince Ryuuzaki that he did not intend to support Kira/Angelo in any way. This reminded Raito very much of the tennis match they'd shared, in the sense that he didn't know if it would be more suspicious to beat Ryuuzaki's arguments or let himself lose to them.

"But overall" he finally stated, in a completely calm manner " I think Ryuuzaki is correct." He steadily said, hoping to throw Ryuuzaki off balance.

"In what way?" the detective was quick to ask for specification, the calculations of percentages having overcome his brain by now.

"As you said, he is, after all, a…hypocrite." Raito tried not to show that there was a lump in his throat "When it comes to his own survival, he's swift to reject all ideals. Even though he told Escalus, in the same speech, that he'd like to be judged with parity…that was a complete, outright lie. He was completely afraid to be judged in the same way he'd judged others-"

A flash of Ryuuku, smiling and writing the lonesome words 'Yagami Light' on a single yellow page, attacked Raito's consciousness with force. His jaw clicked as he shut it, and then opened it again.

"In the end no one respected him." He concluded, and realized that, for some reason, his eyes had become slightly unfocused. He found himself staring at Ryuuzaki's shoulder instead of Ryuuzaki's eyes.

Wow, he thought sarcastically. What a fantastic job of dispelling L's suspicions. With his little dramatic show of self-hate, he'd probably provoked Ryuuzaki's intrigue more than ever.

However, he was surprised to note that the detective didn't pounce on this opportunity to assault Raito's weak spot. Instead, when Ryuuzaki spoke again, his voice had a very subtle quality of pensiveness to it.

"It was rather obvious that this would happen from the beginning of the play" Ryuuzaki steadily said, and his indifferent stance somehow infuriated Raito more than anything else. "As the Duke said before he left Angelo as his deputy, 'a man's virtues are useless when he keeps them to himself'. They only become important when he uses them to improve others. Men like Angelo, who are extremely focused on their own propriety, are character stereotypes." L turned toward Raito, piercing him in the eyes "The kind of character who is too meticulous about his own virtue, obviously has an inner vice that he needs to hide."

Was Ryuuzaki…insulting him? Was Raito been called a character stereotype? Was Raito expected to feel assaulted?

But Raito had another thing coming. Instead of indignation, he'd portray calm geniality, and twist L's argument around.

"That's true, isn't it, Ryuuzaki. We often meet this kind of vicious character in literature…" Raito started, trying to restrain the slightly maniacal grin that he knew was threatening to surface on his face "But what about the Duke himself? He disguises himself as a priest and begins lurking in the shadows, reveling in manipulating others. The pivot of irony in the play is when the Duke calls Angelo a hypocrite. What's the purpose of his character, do you think?"

"The Duke's character…" Ryuuzaki's body suddenly stopped moving, and only his lips appeared to be alive "…exists to prove that Angelo's convictions are nothing but an illusion."

Raito's eyes narrowed, and his knuckles became white.

"Angelo only starts becoming vicious when the Duke leaves the city. When Angelo believes he has become all-powerful and that no one can repudiate his hypocrisy…the Duke is revealed." It was becoming obvious to Raito, by Ryuuzaki's words, that more than one parallel was at work in this play "And in this way, the man who believed himself to be powerful falls from grace. His greatest punishment is this public falsification of his beliefs."

Raito waited a few moments, showing no reaction, until finally, he decided to say one last thing.

"In my opinion" he started, leaving the book on a nearby armchair and standing up to stretch his legs "it isn't only Angelo who's a hypocrite. The Duke is the greatest hypocrite of all."

"Definitely" Ryuuzaki's voice rang, unexpectedly. Raito was taken aback and turned around to watch the other, in spite of himself. Did Ryuuzaki realize that he was practically calling himself a hypocrite? What-?

"But unlike Angelo, he never tries to lie about it to himself." The detective concluded. Raito stared at him for a few moments. Then he stood up slowly, walking steadily toward the bar, always staying in Ryuuzaki's vision, and pouring himself a drink. "I take it the Duke is your favourite character then?" he asked, muffling his sigh. This constant doubt about Kira was destroying him on the inside. He almost wished he could be thrown to the Hands again. At least back then he'd had an identity. He had steady beliefs, that could not be swayed by anyone's words. He had a sense of self.

Now, who was he? What was he? What was right for him to be, in order to make all the evil claims a lie?

"Favourite?" Ryuuzaki repeated, uttering the word as though it was completely foreign. It occurred to Raito that Ryuuzaki would probably have no favourites in anything. "Well I have no particular preference…but I appreciate the Duke's cerebral creativity, as opposed to Angelo's stale self-denial."

Raito realized that if he said anything at this point to defend himself, he could only make things worse. Thus, he shut his mouth quite practically, by shoving a gulp of Bordeaux down his throat. He cursed his luck that the others had all gone out on errands, and that he was forced to deal with Ryuuzaki tête-à-tête. For once, he really didn't need Ryuuzaki – or all people – to tell him about his own problems. He had his own thoughts to thank for that.

Raito let his backbone rest against the edge of the bar, leaning his elbows and head backwards and stretching. With his left hand, he shook the glass of blood-red wine in lazy circles. He was actually surprised to hear Ryuuzaki speak again, completely lost as he was in his own musings.

"On the other hand, however" the detective's voice rang clear, and Raito felt more than saw Ryuuzaki turn towards the computer monitors again "Without Angelo there would be no plot."

-

Seven weeks. Seven endless weeks, before Raito seriously started to wonder whether or not this would be his new life. Was he being given a second chance?

After all this time, he was almost starting to go mad. And it was neither because of Ryuuzaki's constant jabs nor by the fact that he hadn't slept in six days straight. It was the realization that this could indeed be his new reality. Would he be trapped here for eternity? With Ryuuzaki. Fighting Kira. It was more pathetic than Raito had cared to think.

"Ryuuzaki…" he spoke, slurring his words slightly. It was one of those few times that he truly couldn't hold on any longer, even though he wanted to. He'd long since finished the computer program, and was now occupied with classifying the deaths of victims in terms of race, sex, criminal background, etc, but it was impossible to focus anymore. He'd held on fine for all this time, but he inevitably needed some sleep.

"Yes, Yagami-kun." The detective's voice flowed patiently, as L's face twisted around to see Raito, fallen in a heap over the desktop. They were at a new hotel this week, and the room was stuffier than usual, unfortunately. However, Raito wouldn't let that stop him.

"I need to sleep…" Raito said, and, in his own opinion, he sounded as though he was already asleep "Do you want anything or can I go now?"

Ryuuzaki thought for a few seconds and then spoke "I'm fine."

"Good…" Raito whispered imperceptibly, letting his head collapse on the side of the couch. The second after he dropped his eyelids, he fell asleep immediately, knowing with a small sense of deja-vu that when he'd wake up, he'd find Ryuuzaki in exactly the same place he'd left him.

After five and a half hours of completely unconscious sleep, Raito opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the flowery green velvet pattern of the couch. Then he felt the insistent tap on his shoulder again, and groaned lightly.

"Nng…" he wined, eager to fall back to black, restful oblivion. But luck was not on his side that day.

"Yagami-kun, I need to use the bathroom." Ryuuzaki's entirely too annoying voice assaulted Raito's grumpy ears.

"Oh, for fuck's sake…can't you just go? I'm not going anywhere…" Raito muttered, not too aware of how childish he sounded. But any action of his was excusable, under the circumstances. He hadn't slept for six days, for goodness' sake! Ryuuzaki ought to at least let him rest. Waking someone up in the middle of a sleep as deep as Raito's could merit much worse reactions, Raito thought a bit indignantly. Ryuuzaki should be grateful he'd gotten away with just a whine.

"Yagami-kun…" the warning tone inevitably came, and Raito sighed, sitting up. Everything ached. Ironically, he hadn't realized he'd been so tired before he'd actually fallen asleep. And now the only thing he wanted was to fall asleep again – he felt like he'd been run over by a bus. But Ryuuzaki was as unrelenting as usual, and he tugged on Raito's dark blue jumper a bit more insistently.

"Fine, fine…" Raito murmured, standing up. His knees buckled and he almost collapsed, but held himself steady on the nearby mantelpiece. With the air of a dog which is forced to enter the house after a walk outside, Raito mechanically dragged his aching legs after Ryuuzaki's naked feet. When they finally reached the bathroom, Raito leaned against the corridor wall and Ryuuzaki walked inside. When the wooden door shut, Raito started the classic ritual: tapping the door with Morse signals every few seconds, spelling 'I'm here'.

'_Seriously' _Raito thought, with a spiteful annoyance he hadn't experienced in quite a long time '_I've never met another idiot like him. He wakes me up just to drag me a few feet further? Honestly. Of course 'I'm here'…where the hell else would I be…? What an idiot…'_

He heard the telltale sound of the toilet flushing, and the subsequent noise of the water tap. Lethargically, Raito indulged himself in daydreaming about the soft plush surface of the sofa's pillows. He couldn't wait to return to Morpheus's embrace. Feeling annoyed, he tapped 'I'm half asleep' instead of 'I'm here' with Morse on the door.

Thankfully, a few seconds after he'd tapped the last message, the door opened and Ryuuzaki walked outside, with water droplets dripping from the edges of his jaw. Raito, having caught himself at the last minute from falling face-first on the bathroom floor when the door opened, automatically supported himself on the wall.

Raito moved towards the living room, heading for the couch, but was jolted when he saw Ryuuzaki scoot toward the bar. Desperately trying to stop himself from grumpling, Raito followed. Just as Ryuuzaki went searching the cupboards for new sweets, Raito raised his palm to his nape, massaging his taunt muscles, until he heard a satisfying cracking sound.

With a small, imperceptible sigh of bliss, Raito lowered his hand, just in time to see the annoying detective approach him, with a couple of pink cupcakes in his hands.

"Anything else?" Raito asked with slight sarcasm, surprised by the thickness of his own voice. Was he really that tired?

"Sorry for waking you, Yagami-kun."

But Raito's anger and annoyance had largely deflated, and now the only thing he wanted was to return to a state of suspended mental animation. It wasn't Ryuuzaki's fault if Raito hadn't taken care to sleep, anyway. Unable to focus on anything for two long, he just shook his auburn head carelessly and started finally walking toward the living room, hearing the satisfying sound of Ryuuzaki's feet sinking in the suite carpet come from behind.

And he'd just passed the arch of the door that led to the drawing room, when he suddenly paused, eyes wide open and fully focused. Suddenly, all thoughts of sleep and rest completely evaporated, and he now felt more aware than ever. Immediately, he took a step backwards, grabbing the sides of the doorframe for support. He felt a light pressure on his back and realized he'd most likely collided with L. The thought of all those cupcakes staining his neat pullover did not even pass through the auburn haired man's brain. At the moment, he could only think of one thing.

"Ryuuzaki" he called, with an uncharacteristically urgent voice. "What the hell is that?" he pointed at the thing, which was hanging from the ceiling, hovering directly above where Raito's head would be if he were sleeping on the couch.

"What are you talking about?" Ryuuzaki asked with unusual incomprehension. Obviously, he was still trying to salvage his sweets from being splattered against Raito's body. Then, Raito felt a small tickle against his back and realized that Ryuuzaki was looking over his right shoulder, as was his wont. "The doll?"

Raito turned around within seconds, grabbing Ryuuzaki's shoulders automatically and shaking the other man until the cupcakes fell to putty on the floor "What's it doing here?" he asked, sounding hoarser than he wanted but unable to contain himself.

"Calm down, Raito-kun. You were the one who wanted it here, remember?" Ryuuzaki jerked himself out of Raito's grasp with one fluid motion, kneeling to mourn the loss of his sweets. Raito was left, standing there, trying to reason out what he'd just heard.

In the meantime, their voices had awoken the other members of the investigation, who were now slowly coming to their senses.

"Ryuuzaki, I'm serious." Raito kept his voice low and deadly calm, kneeling next to the detective and staring at him straight in the eye "How did that thing suddenly appear?"

The marionette, with its golden long curls and its frilly dress, was smiling demonically from above them, its crystal eyes fully focused on Raito's every move. Frantically, Raito shot his eyes around the room to spot a wooden clock. However, he could see nothing of the sort. There was only the marionette, with its insistent smile turned to Raito, which always brought misfortune. Much like Misa herself, actually.

"It's been here ever since we arrived five days ago. Did you just notice it?" L spoke steadily, standing back up and looking at Raito, not without a hue of curiosity in his gaze usually expressionless face. Suddenly, Raito felt scrutinized, pressured by all angles.

That thing was back here. He'd let his guard down in this world, forgetting it was actually a hallucination. A horrible hallucination, designed to torture him. And now the puppet had appeared again, more impending and threatening than ever. What would it make him see this time? What would it make him do?

And once again, judging from L's and even Richards's utterly uncomprehending faces, Raito was all alone. No one would understand, even if he tried to explain the situation. Because none of these people were real…they were hallucinations. No, they were _part_ of the greater hallucination. A hallucination intended as his own personal torture, it seems. Who knows what would happen this time? As if his own current self-hate was not enough! What more did they want from him? What could possibly be worse than what had already happened?

Raito looked at Ryuuzaki's black hair, and could almost taste them in his mouth. Suddenly, he could think of a dozen worse things.

He turned around again, looking at the smiling, sardonic, Misa-shaped demon. Even though it wasn't five o'clock in the morning – it was seven – the marionette was staring right back at him, smiling at him with its satanic grin. There was no clock around, no countdown. And the doll was staring right at him, with its smile wider and more threatening than usual.

Even though he hadn't laid a hand on it.

"Horrid little thing, isn't it?" Raito heard some female member of the investigation team comment from the side, but paid no more notice.

At least before, he'd been given a choice: to touch it or not. But now…now doom would come to him, whether he went looking for it or not. It was inevitable.

Just like the Hands had been.

-

Ever since he'd first laid eyes on it, Raito had galvanized to action. He wasn't even trying to hide his constant anxiety, at some point, having forgotten why it was important to be composed. His first move was to demand that Ryuuzaki allow them to work in another room, as far away from the puppet as possible.

Needless to say that Ryuuzaki regarded him with no small amount of suspicion, and some barely disguised confusion.

"Are you unsettled by a doll, Yagami-kun?" he'd asked without preamble, keeping his voice in a flat monotone that suggested he was not trying to mock Raito, but to understand him. The rest of the investigation team didn't see it quite like that, however, since Raito had heard various small chuckles coming from corners of the room.

Suddenly coming back to his senses, Raito steeled his nerves. He could not allow himself to show he was afraid like this. Even if he had to put up with the satanic figure, he'd persevere. After all, it may be a good idea to stay close to it and observe it's reactions – he might notice something special about it, which would help him escape the torture loop.

"…never mind…I don't care." Raito stated, trying to ignore the glassy marionette eyes he could feel on the back of his head. He strained himself to stop thinking about it and focus on Ryuuzaki, but he must have focused a bit too hard at some point, since he saw L stare at him a bit curiously. Of course, it would never show on Ryuuzaki's face that he was taken aback, but Raito could understand it by the way L kept blinking – an action he rarely did in Raito's presence.

And so it was settled. Raito sat down on the couch, directly below the puppet. This was officially the closest he had ever come to it, excluding the times he had touched it. Sitting there underneath it, he fancied he could almost feel it's eyes on him. He thought he could hear, from some faraway place, the distinctive screech of metal rubbing against metal. As though a prisoner, somewhere, was dragging his chains on the ground. It was a fleeting, muted sound, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

The walls and lights around now unexplainably seemed less warm than before, and all the artificial comfort Raito had built for himself the last few days dissipated within seconds. Everything around him was tinged in a blue hue, even Ryuuzaki's fire-red candy and all the sounds of speech from the other humans appeared slightly subdued. The faraway, horrible screeching sound was the most prominent element in Raito's consciousness.

He turned around slowly, watching L from the corner of his eye. The detective, as usual, was typing with one hand and sipping on a cup of hyper-sugared tea with the other. He seemed absorbed in his work, unaware of any sounds or changes in the atmosphere. Obviously, Raito was the only one who could register these changes, just as he was the only one who could see the demonic nature of the doll.

Was he… finally going insane, then?

Unable to stop himself, he sunk deeper in his seat and heaved an entirely too audible sigh. A small shuffle from his left attracted his attention, and he saw Ryuuzaki turn around to watch him. L had some crusted sugar stuck on his chin, which made his wide-eyed serious stare seem a tad ridiculous.

"Are you all right, Yagami-kun?" L started, holding his teaspoon in his distinctive way and using it to mix yet more sugar cubes in the abused tea. "You've been acting strange."

No other mention of the doll had been made, and Raito assumed that Ryuuzaki had not noticed that this marionette was completely identical to the one they'd had at the Headquarters' building. Obviously, he was the only one it this world who could see these dolls and understand them for what they were. Judging from the fact that L had not yet somehow connected Misa to the puppet, it was safe to say that there was absolutely no excuse why the doll was here in the first place. L and the others seemed to accept its presence as a token reality, not questioning anything.

Raito wasn't quite as blissfully ignorant.

He opened his mouth, not really knowing what he wanted to say. On the one hand he wanted to talk about the doll, but on the other he knew it was useless. Ryuuzaki would never understand – he didn't have the capacity. And with every moment that passed, Raito could feel the gaze of those glassy eyes pierce his skull completely – the thing was watching him…something was going to happen. Something horrible. He could feel it…and he had to do something!

"Well I-" Raito started saying, but he didn't manage to finish his phrase, since he was interrupted by the ring of a phone from somewhere in the back of the room. It distracted Ryuuzaki, who turned to the direction of the muttering voices.

"Ryouga, we just received a call from Inspector Ogasawara." Murray told Ryuuzaki, using his alias. Murray was the new equivalent of Watari, in the sense that he served as Ryuuzaki's connection to the rest of the world. When the Japanese police and the Interpol wanted to contact L, it was Murray they called. The only difference that Murray had with Watari was that he was about twenty years younger, half-American and obsessed with mahjong.

"They recovered a body from the higher floors of the Headquarters' building and they want our help in identifying it."

Ryuuzaki lost no time. He took the proffered cellphone and held it a few inches away from his ear, in his usual bizarre manner.

"Hello Inspector." He said, and Raito was partly relieved he wasn't forced to speak anymore. On the other hand, despite grateful for the distraction, he was quite curious as to why the police was calling them. They had already recovered the corpses from the Headquarters, hadn't they? Souichirou Yagami's funeral had been conducted whilst Raito had been in the hospital. The same went for Matsuda and the others…Raito had thought that L had completely abandoned the HQ building after the earthquake. He had never heard Ryuuzaki say that the investigations and search for corpses were being continued. What new body had they just found?

Raito had noticed that Murray had called L 'Ryouga' and not 'Ryuuzaki' in front of the police, which implied that the Inspector on the other end of the line had met L as 'Ryouga Hideki' and not as 'L' or 'Ryuuzaki'. What exactly was going on here?

" I see." Ryuuzaki's voice sounded, and Raito watched him carefully. There was complete silence in the room, as the rest of the team intently and tactlessly listened in on Ryuuzaki's conversation as well. "And where is he now?" the detective asked, his eyes carrying the usual unfocused quality of a person speaking on the phone.

"Ah…Then we'll come to visit this evening."

'_Visit?'_

Ryuuzaki was actually planning to _exit_ the _building_? This must be serious.

L pulled the phone away and carefully pressed the red button, ending the call. He then proceeded to hand the phone back to Murray, without granting any explanations. After the conversation was over, everyone went back to their work, looking completely nonplussed. All except Raito, who was still trying to understand exactly what new scheme Ryuuzaki had been planning.

"What was that all about, Ryuuzaki?" he asked, thinking that a direct approach was in order and watching L carefully unwrap a cherry-flavoured icicle. Raito wasn't really expecting a straight answer, so he was surprised to receive one.

"As Ryouga Hideki, I told the police to notify me if they ever had any progress with finding anyone in the old HQ building. It seems they've recovered Watari's body and want me to go identify it." He simply said, with a voice too toneless and disinterested to be normal.

But Raito didn't comment. He didn't think it necessary, since he was still busy processing what Ryuuzaki had said. Obviously, Ryuuzaki had forged a new personality for Watari as well, if he was so relaxed about identifying the old man's corpse. Raito waited a few seconds and then nodded simply.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. In which police station have they taken him?" he asked, not expressing further condolences. He knew that Ryuuzaki would see through his hypocrisy if he even attempted to act more sorry than he really was. And making Ryuuzaki more suspicious was not an option.

"It's in downtown Tokyo." The detective answered, devoting himself to typing once more.

"And am I going with you over there later?" he asked, feeling the intense need to escape the marionette-infested room immediately. But at the same time, he was worried about the possible horrible occurrences that may take place in the next few hours.

After all, this situation was just as unusual as an earthquake...and Raito had learned by now that these rapidly changing critical situations had never served his interests, in the long term. His pulse increased upon this realization, and he suddenly wished that Ryuuzaki would not take him along after all. But it didn't seem he'd have a choice in the matter after all, since Ryuuzaki gave the verdict.

"You'll come with us downtown and you'll stay under surveillance in the car, with Zania and the others, while I'm at the police station." Ryuuzaki said, looking a tad displeased at the fact that he'd have to relinquish personal surveillance of Raito, even for a little while.

But it was extremely unusual for L to give up control over Raito so easily. Ryuuzaki must not have wanted to go see Watari's body together with Raito. It was either that, or…or Ryuuzaki's sudden acquiescence was due to something else.

Raito clearly remembered the relatively uncharacteristic speed with which Ryuuzaki had accepted Sayu in the HQ, that day before the earthquake. Ryuuzaki's current attitude reminded Raito of the very same thing: L was acting…slightly unnatural. Albeit he wasn't being strange on the outside, Raito knew Ryuuzaki better than any other, and he could swear that Ryuuzaki would never accept letting Raito out of his sight…

Raito's eyes narrowed covertly, as he stared at his blank laptop screen. He could feel the doll's eyes drilling into the back of his head, and realizing his fingers were shaking a bit. He stopped himself hastily, before Ryuuzaki noticed his strange behaviour.

He hadn't touched it at all today, had he? Not even by accident. There was no way he could have touched the doll and provoked a new catastrophe…He told himself not to worry. It was just a coincidence that Ryuuzaki had some errands to run in Tokyo that day. Everything would turn out fine, and they'd be back in the hotel room by sundown…

But even though he reassured himself, he was unable to keep his eyes from slipping to the clock every few minutes. He didn't want that evening to come.

There was a small part of him that appreciated the irony of the situation: even though he'd spent his living years wishing Ryuuzaki would stop hunting him and disappear from the face of the earth, now it was the reassuring routine of living with the same Ryuuzaki that Raito preferred over all other alternatives.

-

Zania was a Brazilian mercenary, with the kind of pneumatic musculature that would put the local gym to shame; a rather unsocial man, who gave Raito the impression that he'd be more communicative with a Kalashnikov than his own mouth. More than once in the last half hour, Raito had wondered whether or not Ryuuzaki was trying to make a statement by leaving him in the limo with a man like Zania as his guard.

Yukiya Tachibana, another agent of their team, was also in the car, complete with black business suit and black tinted sunglasses. Had Raito been a lesser man, Tachibana would have reminded him of those people usually hosted in bad game shows. He was short, he was porky and he was only good in organizing files, but still he believed himself to be the coolest person alive.

At least all these small details served as minor distractions for Raito, who'd been under pressure ever since that morning. His much needed sleep had not only eluded him, but completely evaporated from the moment he saw the marionette's cold smile. Now his nerves were strung so tightly that sleep seemed like an unreachable dream.

He looked at the empty seat beside him, reserved exclusively for Ryuuzaki. Raito noticed the telltale sugar cubes that were stuffed in a plastic bag on the corner of L's seat, and realized that the car practically reeked of Ryuuzaki. Not to mention, of course, the small digital camera that was stuck on the back of Zania's seat, pointing straight at Raito's face. After L came back, he would take the camera and carefully observe the recorded video, making sure that the suspect had made no suspicious movements while he was away.

Murray had also come with them, but he'd accompanied Ryuuzaki to the police station instead of staying in the car. This was reasonable, Raito thought, since Murray was now supposed to be Ryuuzaki's right hand man in Watari's place…however strange and absurd that sounded.

Where was Ryuuzaki, anyway…? Wasn't he a bit late? It had almost been forty minutes since he left. And with each minute that passed, the more nervous Raito became. In a desperate effort to get distracted and calm down, he tried to listen to Zania and Tahibana's conversation. After all, one could watch the glowing neon Tokyo lights for so long until he got bored.

" – ot springs, but the missus wants to go to a day spa…you know how it is." Tachibana was saying, and Raito almost rolled his eyes at the idleness of these people. Instead of talking about Kira, like Souichirou and Mogi would have done, they were preoccupied with completely insignificant matters.

Zania gave a grunt of acknowledgement at the corpulent man's words, and made no other sign of having heard. Apparently, he too shared Raito's thoughts on the quality of Tachibana's subject matter.

"In any case, if the situation continues with the Kira investigation, I don't think we'll be going anywhere this summer. Don't you?" Tachibana continued, removing his sunglasses from his face and starting to meticulously wipe them on the lapel of his suit. Why was he wearing black sunglasses when the sky was already pitch dark? He'd probably wanted to be Yakuza, Raito thought with sarcasm, but was forced to come work for L when the Yakuza kicked him out. The sunglasses were probably the next cool thing – Raito wouldn't really now, since he wasn't that much of a fashion person. Sure, he liked to stay presentable and neat, but he always selected classic clothes, of diachronic style.

Zania groaned again, obviously bored to tears of his partner's idle chatter.

"Maybe we should put some music on?" Tachibana suggested, and Raito saw Zania's wide shoulders shrug. Tachibana stretched his hand and was just about to press the 'power' button of Ryuuzaki's Dolby Digital stereo, when the car suddenly moved. Violently.

All three of them froze.

"What the hell was that?" Tachibana immediately asked, whipping his head around and making his inordinate amount of adipose tissue move like a tidal wave around his torso.

Zania's heavy voice suddenly echoed, startling in its low bass "Kid, did you do anything?"

Raito had also sat up by now, staring around and trying to see outside the filtered black windows. "No-" he started, but never had a chance to conclude his statement, since a tapping sound interrupted him. All three of them turned around in unison to see a man standing there, tapping on their window. He couldn't have been more than thirty years old and looked completely normal, like any other Japanese businessman who frequents this part of town.

Zania, who was sitting on the driver's seat on the right side of the car, gave a sound of annoyance as he lowered his window. "What now?" he muttered. The businessman held his briefcase tightly in his one hand and waved at them with the other.

"Pardon me…but…I seem to have lost my way…" he said, his voice little more than a mousy whine. Raito narrowed his eyes, wondering why a man would ask a limo driver for directions, even if there weren't so many pedestrians around – the police department was only a few blocks away.

And where the hell was L, anyway? What could be taking so long?

"What are you looking for?" Tachibana asked, leaning toward Zania's window and almost causing his seat belt to snap in two. If he could see what they were doing to his lovely classic Mercedes-Benz, Watari would surely start rolling in his…well, he didn't technically have a grave yet, did he?

"Well, it's a road called…"

The mousy person's voice faded away, as Raito reposed back in his seat. The camera jutted rudely in his vision, and he restrained himself from covering it with his palm. If he did, then Ryuuzaki would consider it a suspicious gesture. So Raito leaned his head backwards and tried to soothe his nerves. In fact, he had almost succeeded in calming down by now. All he needed was to go back to the hotel and-

"What…?" he suddenly muttered, noticing a dark shape moving outside Tachibana's window. Raito's eyes, with extreme velocity, analyzed the given situation: Tachibana and Zania appeared completely absorbed in what the lost pedestrian was telling them. They weren't paying attention to what was happening around them….

Oh no!

"Behind you!" Raito warned loudly, addressing both Tachibana and Zania. For a few milliseconds, Tachibana turned a perplexed stare at his direction. But he was too late.

It all happened in seconds. Tachibana's door was jerked open, forcefully, and two gloved hands dived inside, grabbing the Tachibana's head and shoving a suspiciously coloured piece of fabric in the porky agent's nose. For a few moments, Raito had thought Tachibana was dead, but then he'd realized the man had just fallen unconscious. But Raito didn't have any time to react as he saw the mousy businessman, who'd been asking for directions, with his greasy hair and multiple warts, produce an identical piece of green fabric and shove it in Zania's face, before the huge man had time to register what was happening.

'The police!' Raito instantly thought, but then realized that, even though they were in the same neighbourhood, they weren't close enough to the station to be seen by the officers.

"Quick!" a gruff voice barked, and Raito saw Tachibana's massive figure be drawn out of the car. He couldn't see clearly, since the leather seats of the car covered most his vision, but he supposed Tachibana had been knocked out by whatever poison or hypnotic essence was in that fabric that had been shoved in his face. Now he'd been dropped to the pavement like a sack of potatoes.

The greasy pedestrian opened the driver's door and pulled Zania's body out, letting it crumble like the inflated balloon that it was. Raito was so paralyzed – he had never been present in a crime that he hadn't organized with the Death Note by himself – that he couldn't think clearly.

Finally, when he saw that they were trying to get in the car, he realized that this was not about the agents. It was about the limo: this was a burglary. A grand theft auto in a small Tokyo parking lot.

Galvanized by his realization, Raito lunged for the car door, believing that they'd let him go free if they were only after the car. Frantically, before they'd get the chance to stop him, he practically squeezed the door handle open. He pushed the door with all his might, uncaring whether or not he'd dislodge it from its hinges, intent on escaping quickly…

…but just as he thought he would open it, he met some sort of resistance. Slowly, with unnamed trepidation, he raised his auburn eyes.

There was a man there, holding his door with a steel grip. He was tall and wiry, with haphazardly chopped stubble all over his jaw, white scars marring his cheeks and oily long dark hair dangling over his eyes. He had a cigarette balanced in his mouth, and another one behind his ear. The smoke slithered upwards, encircling his black slits of eyes. His lanky frame was covered with some argentine tacky necklaces, a filthy Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt and a set of jeans. ….and his appearance was absolutely repulsive.

"Goin' somewhere?" he asked, with a yellow-toothed, derisive smirk and a colloquial accent. Raito was temporarily startled and lost his momentum. Before he knew it, he felt a solid grip grab the front of his blazer and hoist him upwards. The filthy man's ugly face came nauseatingly close, and Raito was overwhelmed by the sudden smell of sweat and pungent alcohol. His face must have shown his disorientation, since the man snorted, blowing smoke into Raito's face. The younger man coughed, inevitably, making the stranger leer.

"Interesting" he said, and used his hand, which was fisted in Raito's clothing, to shove the auburn-haired man back into the car. As Raito was manhandled, the back of his head collided with the window, and he felt a wave of dizziness overcome him. He then experienced the feeling of another body being pressed against him, the sound of car doors slamming, and the characteristic song of an engine coming to life.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the voice of the mousy impostor was heard, and Raito tried to swallow, open his eyes and understand what he was hearing "Throw the kid out!"

"No…" another voice, much slower and more relaxed echoed, and Raito felt chills climb up his spine just by the sound of it. "I like him."

"Are you fucking crazy!? We can't just-" the first voice was back, more infuriated than before.

The sound of sirens suddenly broke through the distance. The few pedestrians might have witnessed the robbery after all…

"Whatever! Fuck it! Leave him!" a third and much more brutal voice, which Raito didn't identify "Just drive!!!"

They were leaving…and he…they were taking him with them?

No!

Raito was dizzy, but he could still see and smell the filthy man who was crammed next to him on the back seat. Feeling his head pound, Raito touched the door to steady himself, noticing that the robbers had locked it to ensure he would not escape easily. As he floundered for support, his palm touched something soft and he looked downwards in confusion. He could see, resting firmly in his hand, a small plastic bag of multi-coloured sugar cubes. Of course, he was sitting in Ryuuzaki's seat…

Ryuuzaki…it all seemed like a dream now…

Of course! Ryuuzaki!

These idiots had involuntarily stolen the car of the greatest detective in the world!

Ryuuzaki had a camera in the car! That was it- they were done for…!

It was only a few seconds of glee before Raito realized that the camera's presence was completely useless, when the car was still in the hands of the burglars. Unless Ryuuzaki had also rigged the car with GPS tracking devices, the car would not be found so easily.

Raito tried to see where the thieves were headed, which roads they were passing and which turns they'd made, in an effort to understand how he could escape. But it was a lost cause, since he eventually became extremely disoriented. They were using some obscure alleys and unknown paths…it would be impossible for Raito to trace this labyrinth of roads.

But Raito wasn't left to ponder these thoughts for much longer, since he suddenly felt an offending hand grab his nape, out of the blue.

"You know we're going to have much fun, you and I." He felt a scorching whisper burn his right earlobe and almost gasped from the horrible smell of the other man's breath.

"Ugh…" Unable to process, let alone _believe_ what he'd just heard, he raised his hand and tried to pluck the slimy creature's paws off his neck. But the other was stronger, and his grip was unrelenting. He brought his other hand to stop Raito from struggling, and the chestnut-haired man belatedly realized that he was now practically enveloped in the other man's limbs.

Frantic at his new realization, he flailed his forearms around, trying to punch any exposed part of skin he could find.

"Oi, shut him up, would you?" the gruffer man of the three, the one sitting in the passenger's seat, calmly said. The mousy bastard, who was driving the car, didn't even bother with speaking, preoccupied as he was with escaping the ever-fading sirens.

"Shhhh…" Raito heard a sibilant hiss in his ear, and the alcohol-laced hotness of the air blown on his face made him flinch. But no matter how much he writhed, the other man would not let go. "We're having fun, aren't we?" Horrified, Raito realized that the other man had taken his head in his hands and started petting him. Seeing red, he started trying to hit the man's abdomen or genitals with his elbow, but it was impossible to get the chance to strike.

Raito was a strong man and good at fighting, but the restrictive quarters of the car were a great disadvantage. He could barely see straight, let alone fight with his normal prowess. As his nostrils were filled with the disgusting scent that emanated from all the oily pores of the other man's unwashed skin, he thought he heard something, like a vague sound of metal dragging against metal.

He'd heard that sound before, hadn't he…? A very vague sound, almost muted in the distance…That sound….

The marionette…

And suddenly, an entirely too powerful realization hit him.

With renewed fervour, and now perfectly aware of what this situation may be leading to, he started struggling. And there was no Sayu around, this time. The only person who was being threatened to be raped, as far as he could see, was himself!

Finally, he managed to jerk himself away from the arms around him and, without preamble, shoved the heel of his hand against the greasy man's chin.

"Ugh!" The sound of a pained groan and a satisfying crack echoed, just as Raito tried to open the car door, escape and continue his attack at the same time. But the door would not open, jammed as it was, and his opponent was quick to recuperate.

"You little-!" the man shouted, flinging himself and pinning Raito to the car seat. The younger man writhed, trying to push his attacker off by manipulating their body weights. Uncontrollably as he was moving, Raito accidentally dug his heel in the back of the driver's seat.

"Shit, Sai!" a voice barked from the front, as the driver lost control of the wheel for a few moments. Sai was obviously the name of the man fighting with Raito "What the fuck?!"

But Sai didn't answer, having his hands full. In a wildly foolhardy instant, Raito actually lunged upwards and bit Sai's nose, with all the abandon he could muster. The older man yelled in pain, reflexively bringing his hands to cup his face. Raito found his chance to strike, and delivered a straight jawbreaker, grabbing Sai's greasy hair with one hand and bringing the fist of his other hand against the filthy man's eye.

"What-!?" new shouts were heard from the front, but Raito was too focused on trying to immobilize the other man. Unfortunately, all of a sudden, two sausage-fingered hands closed in a solid lock around his neck, choking him. It was the other bastard, the one sitting on the front, who had joined in the fight. As Raito tried to dislodge himself from the unnamed man's devilishly strong grip, Sai took enough time to recover. He sat up with a bruised eye and a bleeding nose, with a look of utter ire written across his face.

Without another word, he grabbed Raito's forearm and started twisting it, with the obvious intention of breaking it. The younger man, who was still immobilized by the chokehold, was unable to escape as Sai's dirty claws grabbed him.

"A-ARGH!!" Raito let out a choked screech as he felt the excruciating pain of a thousand tendons and bone joints in his forearm shattering to smithereens. He had felt such pain since…since…

"…-uck are you doing back there?!" someone shouted from somewhere, but Raito was now too lost in the pain to register anything clearly. He could barely feel the solid hands around his neck and, blinded by his disintegrating nerves, could barely meet the sight of his own left hand, twisted and dislodged, bent in an unnatural angle.

"-tever you want, and we'll meet you later at the place!" another voice yelled. But Raito's ears were drowning in a sea of vibrant noise, and he couldn't discern any clear sounds.

Suddenly, he felt the car stop moving, and, even though he could barely communicate with the world, understood that the loud sound he heard was the opening and closing of car doors. Then, the hold on his throat was finally released, but he didn't have any time to breathe clearly, since he felt some unearthly force pull him away, by his feet.

He felt Sai's long fingered hands as they fisted in his clothing once more, and had no choice but to let himself be manhandled. His face was shoved in a plane of sweat-scented wet fabric, and he made an unseen grimace of dismay. Then, he heard more car doors slamming, and vaguely registered the sound of a car engine igniting once more…

Only this time…he wasn't on the car. That much was certain, since he couldn't feel the characteristic hum of the engine around him…

But if he wasn't on the car…then where was he? Starting to recover in view of the circumstances, Raito strained to open his eyes and focus.

"…What-" he started, unable to articulate correctly due to the overpowering pain. Sai was not gentle, however, seeing as he dragged Raito along with him and banged him against a wall, somewhere, completely careless of the fact that Raito's pulverized forearm had just made contact with unrelenting brick. The young man gave a tortured howl, but it fell on deaf ears.

"I tried to do it the nice way, but no…" a murmur with a tinge of insanity rang, and Raito slowly started focusing again. He could see dark shapes…like arches. Dark arches on the end of his vision. There was a horrible stink – not only that of sweat, but a smell of rubbish, coming from his left. When he finally managed to focus his attention, the first thing he saw was a trash can overflowing with junk. He tried to blink and adjust his eyes to the darkness, but before he could focus he was shocked once again, this time by the feeling of having his clothing ripped off his body.

"…We'll do it your way, then…just as good..."

They were in some alley…somewhere…everything looked unfamiliar and black. The only thing Raito could discern was the glint of the other man's teeth and the retched spark in his eyes.

Suddenly, the sensation of rough palms as they touched his skin startled him. He made an attempt to push the other away, but wasn't strong enough. Sai caught his hand – the intact one – and pinned it to the wet alley wall. Then, to Raito's utmost disgust, he felt the other man's grimy fingers fist in his auburn hair, and before he knew what was happening, he was overwhelmed by the horrible smell of combined smoke, sweat, alcohol and vomit and he could feel the sticky, slimy, wet sensation of having a tongue shoved in his mouth.

He choked, trying to escape, but any attempt he made only made Sai hold him tighter in place. The disgusting creature pulled on Raito's hair roughly, as a form of punishment, and kept forcing Raito's mouth open, even though Raito was fighting with all his strength to keep it shut. When he tried to bite of Sai's tongue, his reward was a violent tug on the hair, which made his jaw fall open and left Sai completely free to do as he pleased.

He felt those foul fingers roaming around his pectoral muscles, and almost retched on the spot, disgusted at so many things at the same time: that he was being kissed against his will by another male was the most prominent of those things. When a couple of dirty nails found his nipple and squeezed it, Raito attempted to hit the other man in the groin. Being pinned against the wall with a broken arm, however, he was unable to coordinate his movements properly. Besides, the only thing he managed to do was put his knee in contact with the other man's extremely obvious erection.

The mere thought of another man's equipment coming in contact with any part of his anatomy whatsoever, was a bit too much a stain for Raito, who tried to flail around and escape.

"You're a feisty one." He heard the voice, repulsive and thick from arousal whisper in his ear and felt Sai press himself against the whole length of his body. He heard the other man's groan of satisfaction, as he rubbed himself against Raito's unmoving body, and Raito, for once in his life, did not even try to hide his expression of absolute and utter aversion. The ache in his broken arm was becoming numb, and the most prominent thing in Raito's mind was to escape his new plight. However, he didn't have much time to be disgusted by the hands that were possessively touching his abdomen.

The sound of a belt unfastening echoed in the lonely dark alley, and Raito was well aware that it was not his own belt. His amber eyes widened in seconds, and his pupils became utterly constricted. A sudden wave of fear paralyzed his knees and made his heart jerk painfully in his chest. But he had no time to protest: with a violent jerk of his foul-smelling hand, Sai grabbed the chestnut hair and forcefully bent the younger man to his knees. Raito, now completely immobilized and unable to accept that this was happening to him, automatically started pushing his head backwards and making screeching sounds. The sight of another man's hairy erection, hovering right in front of his face, was enough to make him start retching.

Sai gave a low chuckle, and grabbed the sides of Raito's head once more, this time holding the auburn-haired man in place. Upon realizing what was going to happen, Raito only had time to widen his eyes in horror and let out a strangled whine. Then Sai slammed his hips forward, and only choking sounds could be heard.

It was the combination of the action itself and the humiliation involved in it that made Raito almost cry. He was unable to breathe freely, as Sai's foul-smelling organ was shoved in and out of his mouth with an almost merciless consistency. He tried to bite and grit his teeth against it, but whenever he did Sai would give a harsh pull on his hair, making him gasp. And whenever he'd gasp Sai would find the chance to shove it deeper, causing Raito's throat to covulse. At some point, it even felt like he'd suffocate.

He'd suffocate…the great God of the New World, Kira…would die with someone's dick in his mouth.

The utter humiliation of it was too intense to bear. Why did he have to go through this…? Why? By now, as a reflex from the pain, tears were streaming down his face. But he wasn't sure whether or not some of those tears were actually from humiliation.

He didn't know how long it dragged on. And each one of Sai's moans of satisfaction was only accentuated by the disgusting slurping and choking sounds that were filling Raito's ears. Such a simple action, yet infinitely more humiliating and painful than any time the Hands had ripped him. At least the Hands had been there with the intention of murdering him…but this…the mere idea that someone was using Raito's pain purposely to draw satisfaction…

It was more the idea than the action of it – the repulsion involved was a minor detail when compared to the utter shame of the idea of submission. The idea that Raito's entire pride and power had been surrendered, and he was _on his knees_, unable to move or escape, forced to endure the absolute humiliation.

When the frequency and volume of Sai's groans intensified, the man began pounding in Raito's mouth with utter abandon. Alarms started ringing in Raito's mind, warning him that he might experience the disgusting idea of semen spilling in his mouth. He almost started retching on this idea alone, and had his mouth not already been choking, it would have surely choked now.

But just as Raito was internally wailing at his fate, Sai unexpectedly stopped moving. His hips froze and he pulled the accursed thing out of the other man's mouth, letting Raito's head drop freely. Raito crouched, shuddered, and emptied the contents of his stomach all over the filthy ground of the alley. He tried to breathe freely and felt a sting in his chest, as his lungs were unexpectedly filled with air after so much time. He was internally trying to stop himself from acknowledging that he'd almost fainted with someone's cock in his mouth. Sai let him breathe for a few more moments. Raito had almost started to be able to think clearly again, before he felt a hand – very familiar by now – fist in his hair and pull him upwards.

He fought not to let himself yell in pain as he was manhandled. Sai gave a low-pitched chuckle, and his eyes flashed.

"You're pretty good, bitch." He said, and Raito learned the new dimensions that the words 'hatred' and, most of all, 'humiliation' could take. Before he could register what was happening, he felt those hands again, sweaty and slimy, touch the skin of his abdomen. Within seconds, he felt more than heard his own belt being removed, the zipper of his trousers being lowered.

There was no way he could escape this – not with a broken arm and trembling legs. His heart was pounding in barely restrained panic, his fingers were convulsing and clutching at nothingness, his mind was jerking around ineffectively as he was stripped from his clothes. With another malicious glint in his eyes, Sai flung Raito to the ground by his hair and lost no time in kneeling over him, losing no time and grabbing each of Raito's thighs. There was a mad glint in his eyes, which implies the power of blind arousal, as he tried to ply Raito's legs open. Raito, on his part, was straining to keep them closed, clawing on the ground with his fingers and fighting to crawl away.

At some point, with a heavy grunt, Sai lunged forward, grabbing Raito's broken forearm and pinning it on the ground. The sharpness of the pain was so sudden that the scream that escaped Raito's lips was completely involuntary, a mixture of surprise and horror. Crippled by the pain in his hand, and unable to see straight anymore, his legs were completely pliant as the other man spread his thighs.

Raito started coughing on his own saliva when he felt an offending warm mass settle over his body. The horror and frantic heartbeat began to drown out the actual pain. And when he felt the sensation of something wet, sticky and extremely hard slide across his upper thigh did he resume his thrashing.

But by now, it was too late. All it took was another hit on his broken arm, and Raito was completely neutralized, almost fainting. Sai roughly pulled one of the younger man's calves over his shoulder, hitching Raito's knee around it.

"NGH!!"

When it finally happened, it was horrible. No, it was more than horrible. The pain was of a retched kind, unlike any other. But it was the suddenness of it, the careless violence with which it happened, that was the most crippling of all. Of course, it was nothing compared to the kind of pain Raito had persevered in the past with the Hands.

But this time it was not the pain that hurt him the most. It was the utter humiliation.

The knowledge that he, who had excelled and overachieved in everything in his life, he who had had power over the lives of this fucker and so many other people, could now so easily be thrown to the ground and degraded in this horrid way.

He tried to stifle his voice, unwilling to give anyone the pleasure of hearing the shell-shocking depth of this humiliation. But the loud moans that were echoing from the other man were almost enough to drown out Raito's own voice, and the knowledge that his shame was being exploited only served to intensify the shattering of his pride.

"…so good…uhh…" the thick voice muttered, groaning as Raito shuddered "…you're so good…"

He felt penetrated in more than one sense, completely and utterly violated, used in the worst possible manner. Not even when they'd shredded him apart had they made him feel so entirely murdered. Because this time it wasn't only his body that was being raped – it was his soul as well, and all its foundations. The fact that a mere nobody could cause him, the Great Kira, to feel such intense pain was more than humiliating: it was shell-shocking.

He felt his skin being squeezed beneath the dirty hands, and yelled in pain once again. It would be over soon, he told himself. It would be over…. But the pain was not becoming less harsh, no matter how much time passed. Each thrust was just as excruciating as the one before, and Raito's utter lack of arousal was intensifying the dryness of the pain.

Just as he'd predicted, it only took a few more minutes for Sai's body to freeze, his hips stilling their constant movements. Raito felt a form of utterly sickening wetness cover his pelvis, and he shut his eyes tightly, willing himself not to think about it, not to scream.

He was expecting the other man to roll away immediately. Indeed, the weight over Raito was finally removed. But instead of being left there in peace, Raito felt his shoulder being grabbed. He opened his eyes, dizzy and confused, and the only thing he saw was the evil smile across Sai's face. Then, he felt his body being jerked around, until he was lying prostrate on the ground, with his face buried in the dirt.

The weight over him resumed full force, and he felt hands grabbing the back of his head, forcing him to arch backwards. Soon enough, the pressure resumed, and Raito released another scream.

"Second round." The husky tone muttered, and Raito's hands fisted in the dirt. Everything was spinning, he was aching and tears of pain and frustration were spilling from his eyes. It hurt…it hurt…and more importantly, it stripped all his pride, to be bent over like this. It stripped him.

Now the pounding was accompanied by a wet squelching sound. Raito squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Sai froze above him once more, and the warm wetness soon intensified. He was unable to breathe – the disgust was so strong.

"Third round"

But each time was just as bad as the first…and each time, the realization of his utter weakness and humiliation became deeper and deeper.

When would it stop…?

…when would it finally stop…?

-

Raito lay there, naked, with his limbs spread out. His mind was completely blank, for once, as he focused all his energy on breathing. His broken arm had become a dead weight on his side, and he could hardly feel it.

Suddenly, he heard shuffling sounds and saw the man standing over him, zipping his trousers. He went somewhere out of Raito's vision, and then returned a few moments later, with some lumps of fabric held in his hand. He threw the wad on Raito's chest and chuckled with that characteristic derisive grin that Raito knew would haunt him in the future.

He had no energy to think, much less sit up and wear his clothes. He'd lost count of how many times it had happened, since he was certain he'd passed out, at some point..but it had felt like an eternity. But the fact that the man was standing there and that Raito could feel a stream of wetness – blood and something else – flowing over his thighs was proof that it had truly happened.

"Well, it's been a blast." That voice, completely relaxed and rather cheery, echoed around the empty dark silence. Raito swallowed, feeling the sides of his dry throat ache "But now I've gotta run."

Raito watched him, barely registering that he was buttoning his Hawaiian mulit-coloured shirt and slicking his greasy dark brown hair backwards. Raito could almost feel it ghosting over his back, just as it had when the man had been rolling over him, only a few minutes ago.

Everything that had happened before this evening, the many nights he'd spent reading by Ryuuzaki's side…everything seemed like an eternity away.

Raito heard footsteps and twisted his head slightly to observe the other man, as he started walking away, looking nonchalant and rather cheerful. As though nothing had happened. As though he hadn't just raped someone at least seven times and left them there with a broken arm.

Raito wanted to see him disappear, wipe him out from his memory. It wasn't hatred that was consuming him; it was utter humiliation. How could he have let this happen to him?

And then, like a meteor, the sounds of Sayu's screams filled his ears, the look of terror in her wide eyes exploded in his brain. Sayu…Sayu…was this what he'd done to her…? But he'd had no choice when he'd raped her – neither he nor his father... Then perhaps, this man…Sai…had also not had a choice? Perhaps, like Raito, he'd been…forced…to be extremely aroused and raped someone…? Had he….? Was he…?

Turning toward the man, who had almost walked out of the alley by now, Raito gasped. There was something he felt the need to ask, with the last of his strength. He needed to know.

"Wait…" he rasped, but Sai didn't stop walking and Raito realized he'd have to try speaking louder "Wait!" he repeated, his scratchy throat feeling sore, after all the screaming he'd done.

At least he saw Sai's figure pause in the distance, and watched the man turn around, with a few strands of his slimy shoulder-length hair falling across his forehead. He didn't say anything, continuing to smoke his cigarette, as he waited expectantly.

"Did you…" Raito started, suddenly feeling extremely and utterly naked, under the gaze of the one who had stripped his body in the most humiliating way "Had you…" he started again, becoming frustrated by the uncontrollable stuttering of his own voice. Finally, with a breath, he said it "Did you do it because you had no choice?"

"What?" Sai's unrelenting and slightly annoyed voice bounced off the walls of the alley, and Raito willed the man to start apologizing, start saying that his actions had been involuntary, that he'd been wrong…that Raito had not become utterly humiliated. But Sai said no such thing.

"Did you…do it because you couldn't stop yourself?" and even though a part of him felt totally stupid for asking this, the greater part of him, the part of him that was spread out on a dirty alley ground, didn't want to accept what had happened, and that he'd been so weak.

But the other man did not share all these noble emotions.

"What's that bullshit?" he barked, laughing derisively and mocking Raito with his gaze. Belatedly, Raito realized that the other man had always sounded completely composed and in control of himself, nothing like what his father had sounded like before he'd raped Sayu. "I just thought you were cute, and felt like fucking you. That's all." and with those words, the man moved away.

Raito's mouth dried up, his throat became clogged. Something broke, and it wasn't just his arm. He felt the cold night air hit his exposed skin and shuddered.

'_That's all'_

That was the reason why Raito had just undergone the most humiliating, repulsive and shell-shocking violent experience of his entire life. Because some random bastard had felt like it.

And the fact that it had happened for no reason, that there existed a man so disgusting and vile who would do this to another man just to satisfy his own arrogance, made it all the more sickening.

Raito couldn' t move for a very long time after that. He just held still, looking at the starry night sky with glassy, unblinking eyes. His expression had become completely neutralized, and the only things on him that were moving were his toes and fingers, which kept making small spastic convulsions every few seconds.

He stayed there, lost in the night, wishing that he'd never see another human again. Before he realized it, the cold of the night had overcome him, and he closed his eyes. He realized that he hated Sai.

People like Sai, who violated for no reason, really were better off dead.

-

The next time that Raito opened his eyes, the stars and the edges of tall buildings were not the first thing he saw. It was a white ceiling with a big fan, which sent pleasant waves of air in Raito's direction.

The serenity and calmness of his surroundings overcame him for a few moments, and he was content to just lie there, in the comfortable bed, without questioning why or where. A few minutes passed, and then he finally decided to inspect his surroundings. Only when he tried to sit up did he feel a stinging pain on his left, and turned to see his forearm, which was suspended in midair, encased in a white cask.

Everything flooded back to him, from the robbery of the car, to Sai's appearance, to…what had happened in that alley. He gulped at the memory, and fathomed he could feel even now the insistent pain in his pelvis.

Observing his surroundings, he realized he was in a hospital room again, surrounded by the beds of other patients. It was obviously a public hospital, and the sleeping figures around him obviously had differing degrees and forms of illness to combat. The man directly opposite from Raito, for example, seemed to have broken his leg, and was reading a book while lying down. He granted Raito a 'good morning' and returned to his book.

Raito nodded in return, not trusting himself to speak. He could still hear his own screams and the other man's groans echo in his ears, as though they'd been carved on his memory. He looked around the room some more, and his eyes finally came to rest on a female figure, sitting on a chair near his bed. The woman was half asleep, keeping her eyes closed and breathing in steady deep breaths.

"Mother…?" he muttered in disbelief, and immediately saw her eyes flutter open.

"Oh Raito!" she gasped, standing up immediately and trying to give him an awkward hug. Finally, when she realized it was impossible to touch him without hurting him, she settled for caressing his cheek "Thank God! We were so worried!"

The last time he'd seen her was when they'd dropped Sayu to the house after the earthquake. Obviously, judging from her enthusiastic greetings, she had not been informed of what he'd done to his sister. The woman was dressed in black, which was a symbol for mourning the death of her late husband – killed in the earthquake.

All this information bogged Raito's brain down significantly, generating many questions at once. How had they found him? How had they brought him here? Did they know what had happened to him? Did they know he had…?

God, he'd never life it down if anyone else knew of his utter humiliation…

Even though he wanted to ask all these questions, he waited for his mother to finish doting on him, showing him the chocolates and flowers that had gathered on the night table beside him. Raito noticed his sister's handwriting in one of the 'get well' cards, and swallowed a lump that had grown in his throat.

After having the same thing done to him, he'd now gained a whole new understanding of exactly what he'd done to her. And the knowledge that he'd been to her what Sai had been to him – and even worse, because Raito had been her brother, who she'd trusted – was almost bending his thoughts in desperation.

Humiliation was taking all kinds of different forms now. Humiliation for having allowed himself to be manipulated and disgraced, humiliation for having committed the same horrible act to his sister…only now did he understand the full impact of what rape really was. Of course he didn't want to talk about it, and tell anyone about what had happened. If it was up to Raito, he'd want to put the entire thing behind him, and act as though it had never happened.

The memory of that man's scent would never leave him alone, since he still felt he could smell it on his own skin, but acting as though it had never happened was a start.

Suddenly, the door of the hospital room opened, and the deep sound echoed around them. Raito's mother stopped talking and paused, turning to look at the newcomer.

Raito's heart sunk in one single jerk, and his stomach tightened, when he recognized the black hair and distinctive arch of the white shirt. It was the notorious detective, holding a laptop in his right hand.

"I've been notified that Raito-kun is awake…" Ryuuzaki's voice echoed, just as flat and expressionless as always. He walked toward Raito's bed with his distinctive calm sway and nodded in greeting toward Raito's mother, black strands bobbing gently over his forehead. This man's appearance simultaneously brought back so many memories and so many unwanted emotions, that Raito started feeling stifled. It was the first time he was seeing Ryuuzaki after…after…

And the presence of Ryuuzaki so close to him was not helping right now.

"Ryouga-san-" his mother started, but Raito completely drowned her out. Ryuuzaki and the woman were both bending over his bed now, and he was feeling suffocated. He tried to show his discomfort by huffing loudly and shuffling around, but no one seemed to notice him.

Ryuuzaki's composed appearance served as a source of annoyance, since Raito was not feeling up to dealing with Ryuuzaki's constant vigilance right now. Besides, Ryuuzaki's nonchalance about Raito's state was proof that he did not believe the situation was serious enough – or even that Raito had deserved what had happened to him. A flash of anger overcame Raito's thoughts, but he stifled it quickly. Finally unable to take the pressure, Raito spoke.

"…Mother. Ryuu-…Ryouga…could you please…" he muttered, motioning vaguely with his hand. His mother seemed to catch the drift immediately, nodding compassionately. Raito despised the look of barely restrained pity in her eyes.

"Oh! Of course dear…we'll let you rest…" she said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Raito was embarrassed on her account, and he wanted them both to just…stop. Disappear. Leave. She did just that, sharing a small nod with Ryuuzaki and exiting the room.

Thankfully, Ryuuzaki also didn't press the matter. There was no look of pity in his eyes, and he acted the same as always. Raito was strangely thankful of that. With a piercing look, L walked away from the bed. Raito expected him to leave the room altogether, but the black-haired man settled on Raito's mother's chair.

Raito briefly considered cursing, but realized that Ryuuzaki probably would not leave, no matter how much Raito wished him to. Just as Raito tried to calm himself and stop having flashbacks of…of that night, Ryuuzaki occupied himself with scanning the room. His eyes became fixed on the patient with the broken leg, lying in a heap opposite Raito.

"…Hello." The elderly man told Ryuuzaki, when he noticed him staring. L stared a moment longer, letting his eyes read the title of the book the man was reading. Finally, after making the patient uncomfortable, he answered with a 'Hello' of his own and turned back to Raito. After a while, he opened his laptop and started typing frantically.

But Raito was looking out the window by now. The only thing that echoed in his brain was Sai's last words, as the man had walked away.

'I just felt like fucking you, that's all.'

He hadn't been helplessly aroused, just like Raito had been when he'd raped Sayu, nor had he been apologetic after hurting another. The anger and hatred inside Raito intensified, almost making him shout out loud. Unfortunately, the tempestuous nature of his last few experiences was taking a great toll both on Raito's patience and Raito's will for self-control. He understood the importance of keeping his face as an expressionless mask, but he simply couldn't find the will to do it. The more time passed, the more he find that he _wanted_ to vent everything out. Wanted to let the world know how much he hated, but at the same time didn't want anyone to see how humiliated he was.

But if Raito had learnt one thing after raping Sayu was that, sometimes, even though something may appear utterly inexcusable…there may be a justification for it? What if Sai had a reason for acting and thinking in this uncaring way? What if something had happened to him to make him become like this...?

But on the other hand, if Raito kept trying to find excuses for criminals, then the meaning of a crime would lose its value. He recalled Sai's words, which had been uttered so carelessly an coldly.

"That's all."

Perhaps Sai had no excuse for acting the way he did. Perhaps his cruelty was just a product of his will to harm others, and had never been forced…?

There had been no demonic arousal, no desperation. He'd just done it because he'd been malicious, and cruel. If he had done it because he'd been forced to do it…then the crime itself would not render him despicable. But now, the genuine, unprovoked cruelty of his intentions proved that that man had never been forced to commit a crime. He said it himself: he'd hurt people because he 'felt like it'.

And now, after having experienced it first hand, it was impossible for Raito to stop thinking in terms of his personal humiliation. He simply could not see the matter of crime with the same detached logic he'd used before. When thinking of that man, he felt intense hatred, an element of disgust. He felt he wanted revenge.

Had Sayu ever wanted revenge against Raito for having raped her? She seemed not to…but why?

Now having felt the utter helplessness associated with being an actual victim, Raito could justify his sister if she had hated him. However, even though she kept avoiding him, she had never become hateful or malicious…even now, she called him 'onii-chan', using the kind honorific.

It was nothing like what Raito felt toward Sai right now.

After having become a rapist himself, and now realizing the exact impact that this crime had on its victims, Raito realized that sometimes people could be forced to commit horrible actions. In an outsider's eyes – for example, in Ryuuzaki's eyes – Raito's rape of Sayu had looked like nothing more than a crime. Even though it wasn't – it wasn't a crime! Raito had never meant for it to happen, and he felt guilt and remorse after having committed it.

But Sai…when Sai had raped Raito, the crime had been just as harsh as what Raito himself had done to Sayu. But still, it wasn't the same thing. Because Raito – or Souichirou, who had raped Sayu – was not the same as Sai. He didn't like to hurt people on purpose.

Justice was flexible – it was questionable. Two criminals, who commit the same crime, may be very different people. Souichirou and Sai may have technically done the same thing, but Raito could never judge them in the same way. Sai would always carry the weight of being aware of his crime.

And when it came to the greater good of society…people like Sai truly were better off dead. However, people like Souichirou or Raito himself, who had committed vulgar crimes despite their will…who were technically innocent…did not deserve to be wiped out.

Suddenly, everything started to click in Raito's mind, like a huge chain of events. He'd have never gained compassion for any criminal if he'd not become a criminal himself. In fact, if he'd never been thrown and murdered by the Hands – while being utterly unable to defend himself – he would have never understood the enraging nature of injustice. And finally, had it not been for the constant body switches of the interrogation with a demon, he would never have gained the appropriate mental flexibility to appreciate the dichotomy of justice.

He would never have seen the fact that a man can be either pardoned or punished for committing a crime. The factor that ordains who is to be punished is not the crime itself…it is the man.

It is true that whenever a crime is committed, the victim is always hurt and society is plagued. There is no such thing as a noble crime. The issue is, therefore, whether the criminal must be removed from society to improve it. And it all comes down to the same thing: if the criminal is unrelenting, if he acts out of pure spite, then he must be removed. But if he is a victim of circumstance, blackmail or manipulation, it is ineffective and needless to remove him.

In this sense, some of Kira's actions had indeed been erroneous and not just. Amongst the criminals he killed, there surely must have been innocent ones. However…not all of the deaths were wrong. Kira worked as a judge – that was his ideal. The only problem with Kira's punishment was that it took only one form, and there was no way to adjust the punishment according to the level of each criminal.

Raito sat up, with a sudden jerking movement, causing the white serum hanging from the top of his bed to jingle. He widened his eyes, and felt like he was seeing the world for the first time, as though something great was happening – as though some ironclad bubble had just burst in his brain, and he could finally see things clearly.

Ryuuzaki looked up from the screen of his laptop, his wide eyes becoming fixed on Raito's enlightened expression.

"Yagami-kun…?" he asked, with a small inflection of inquiry in his voice.

But Raito hardly heard him, focused as he was. If there really was no way to discern the truly responsible, bloodthirsty criminals from the 'innocent' ones, who'd been forced to commit a crime…then how….

If the word 'criminal' implies two meanings…then how was a good judge supposed to be fair?

If not on the severity of the crime, then where should the criteria for criminals be based?

In other words, in order to relieve society…which ones would Kira be obliged to remove?

-

Ryuuzaki stayed in the room and didn't speak much, for the most part. Raito had heard the other patients muttering something about 'a moving friendship' and 'a touching devotion', but he ignored everything. After all, he knew exactly that L was constantly with him not because of feelings of friendship – quite the contrary, actually. Ryuuzaki was the living representation of the phrase 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'.

They never spoke of what had happened, and although Raito was content to leave it that way, it was impossible not to let his mind start roaming. With the nonchalance of Ryuuzaki's countenance, he could have sworn that Ryuuzaki himself had paid Sai to rape Raito, just so he could satisfy 'the Law of Retaliation'. The constant thought that L probably believed that Raito had gotten what he deserved was perhaps more humiliating than the memory of the rape itself.

At some point, Raito considered whether or not he should talk to L about it, but dismissed the idea within milliseconds.

The third night of his stay at the hospital, Raito decided to strike up some conversation, starting to feel bored of reading newspaper clippings of the Kira case all day long.

"So did you see Watari?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the newspaper he was reading and trying to act noncommittal.

"Yes." Ryuuzaki answered solidly.

"And what-" Raito started saying, turning toward Ryuuzaki. However, he stopped speaking immediately, when he noticed L's face. "…"

There was silence for a few seconds, during which Ryuuzaki stared at the other expectantly. But Raito didn't speak. He just sat up, supporting himself on his elbow and leaned towards L. The detective didn't move his face away, continuing to stare blankly. But it wasn't Ryuuzaki's stare that Raito was currently occupied with.

"Ryuuzaki…" he started, muttering lightly, his eyes sharp and narrowed "…you have a mole…"

"Very observant of you, Yagami-kun." The deep tone of Ryuuzaki's voice flowed, but Raito wasn't listening. His vision was fixed on the dark brown spot, located directly beneath Ryuuzaki's eye, on the edge of the cheekbone.

"You…Ryuuzaki..." He spoke a tad absently, his mind sinking in dreaded realization.

Absorbed in everything that had happened to him, completely devoted to his thoughts about justice as he had been…he had forgotten the most crucial, important thing.

None of this was real.

Moving like lightning, his right arm – not the broken one – shot out and grabbed Ryuuzaki's hair, pulling the other man forward. Ryuuzaki didn't make a sound, just started shaking his head in an effort to move away.

"Yagami-kun-" Ryuuzaki – no, the hallucination – started saying, but Raito was unrelenting.

"Ryuuzaki doesn't have a mole." He whispered, more to himself than to the other man. Immediately after Raito uttered the words, however, Ryuuzaki's shoulders stilled. Something wasn't right in the way Ryuuzaki's body jerked, as though he were being…manipulated, somehow. As though the detective had lost control of his own body.

Raito let go of him hastily, moving backwards and hoarsely looking around the room, hoping to ask for help.

But the patients had all disappeared.

He looked back at Ryuuzaki, feeling his insides freeze. There was no one in Ryuuzaki's seat. Instead of Ryuuzaki's curled knees, the only thing Raito could see was a puppet.

It was a small puppet, with a white shirt and small blue trousers, and with a shock of ebony hair covering its porcelain head. Its mouth was drawn in a line shaped like a bridge, which suggested a pout. Its eyes, huge and piercing, were looking right through Raito.

"Ryuuza…ki…?" Raito gasped, feeling his heartbeat start pounding and unable to stop his surprised anxiety from showing.

And then he noticed that, underneath the puppet's eye he could still see, even now, a small brown smudge – a mole. Indeed, Raito could swear on all the time he'd known the detective that Ryuuzaki had never had a mole in that specific place. But, luckily, Raito was well acquainted with a certain lady who did.

_Misa_

-

Her presence had been there all along: in the marionette, on the pseudo-Ryuuzaki's face…. Everywhere.

Just a few hours ago, Ryuuzaki had turned into a marionette right in front of Raito's eyes. And after that, all the humans in the entire world seemed to have disappeared. Everything worked like clockwork – the doors opened, the trains made their usual stops. The only thing that was missing was the humans. It was as though Raito was the only human left in the world. His gut tightened. His arm which had been broken and in a sling, now appeared completely normal, as though nothing had ever happened to it. Right after Ryuuzaki's transformation, it was as though something had washed over Raito, rejuvenating his entire body.

As though nothing had ever happened. As though he hadn't even been raped, although he knew he had been. And that memory could never be washed away.

Raito's memory was strong, and years of trying to avoid Ryuuzaki's verbal maneuvers had taught him always to pay attention to detail. So he could remember, clearly as day, that when he'd recently been living in the Headquarters building with Ryuuzaki, before the earthquake struck, he'd never seen Misa. Even though there had been investigation cameras covering every inch of her room, and Ryuuzaki had claimed he could see her very well, Raito had never managed to catch even the smallest glimpse of her.

Her room in the Headquarters building.

Raito walked out of the metro station.

If she wouldn't come to him…then he would go to her. Just as he'd done with the marionette. He felt as though he were trapped in a video game, where he had to make the right move in order to progress the storyline. It was a war of attrition.

His footsteps were steady. He wasn't ambling, he was marching. This day was very special indeed, if it could even be classified as a day and not another blank unity of time in this nightmarish place.

No matter how brightly the dying embers of the setting sun would shine, the world always looked the same to him in the time he'd spent here. Dark and cold, comprised of blue, black and white hues. Everything around him was dulled. The whole world was becoming a spiral – a whirlpool – of ringing bells and blowing winds.

It was not the real world, no matter how much Raito had wanted to believe it.

But why Misa? She'd always adored him, hadn't she?

In these few torturous hours ever since he'd walked out of the hospital, Raito was in a constant panic, practically waiting for her to appear in front of him….and who knows what she would demand? He hadn't fallen to the Hands for some time now…and he didn't think he'd ever be able to withstand it again.

Or she might do something even worse. He had cheated on her with Takeda, after all…

The huge building was there, just as he remembered it. L's monolith, designed in true Asian grandeur. Very little of its special glow could be seen now, since it was crumbling after the earthquake. In a small room, somewhere in that building …she was waiting for him. He could feel her.

When he looked at the building, he even thought he saw the skies becoming darker in his peripheral vision. But then again, it might have been a trick of the light. This place was full of hallucinogenic tricks, after all.

Raito stood below it, trying not to drop to his knees from paralysis. Because from this angle, the building looked exactly…the only thing that was missing was the small shadowy figure in the distance, and the scene would look exactly the same as when he dropped to the Hands.

Steeling his thoughts and neutralizing all emotion, he tightened his palms into fists. There was no escaping it…

If he wanted to solve this riddle once and for all, he'd have to go in there.

_Misa_

He had a date today, after all.

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**(1) yes, it really is an extract from the play. Act two, scene one of Shakespeare's 'Measure for measure'.**

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**a/n: So there ya go! Hope everyone liked it! I hope I made it obvious that Raito's views are starting to change, even though he's still unrepentant for being Kira! Not to worry; I now have a good understanding of what I'm planning to do with this plot, and how the Trial is going to reach a conclusion. This was hopefully a chapter that made the readers think!**

**Oh, and one more thing! The next chapter is a surprise (and I'm not talking about Misa, but something else) ! I think that all of you out there are going to love it!! I've already started writing it! Da-da-dum, da-da-dum!!! **

**Please stay tuned, and drop me a review! I'm a bit skeptical about this chapter and I need your feedback!**


	9. L'egoiste fait droit

**Hello people! I'm sorry it's been so long, but I promise that it's never going to happen again! I'll have the next chapter updated next week, and I'll definitely keep my promise…because I've already written it!! That's right: I've written many more chapters. So sit back and enjoy the cool weekly updates! Actually, if I get twenty reviews in this chapter, I'll update the next one immediately!**

**Ok, I hope people like this new edition!**

**Warnings: inexplicit sexual content, weirdness…yada yada yada…if you're less than sixteen and/or are easily offended, then just don't read this and we'll all be happy!**

**Also, I got some feedback from people telling me that, even though they like the fic, the just don't understand the whole 'point' of this torture drill. I totally understand, guys. I know that stuff like this can get tiring after a while – character development isn't always our favourite part of a fic. However, all I'm asking is that you stick with me – just wait until the eleventh chapter, and everything will become crystal clear: why this is happening, how Raito is changing, etc., etc.**

**I'm going to revise it as soon as I can, and the betaed version will soon be updated! I hope everyone likes it and…enjoy!**

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**L'egoiste fait droit **

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That kid's eyes were so black that it was just creepy. With the way he kept looking at everyone, it was as though he went asking for trouble.

A few yelling sounds echoed from the direction of the left. One of the novices of the orphanage, who was standing a few feet away, did not bother to resolve the dispute. They were just kids, anyway – let them knock themselves out.

Instead she just stood there, feeling ridiculous. Here she was, twenty-odd years old, about to become a Nun in the orphanage…and she was feeling ashamed when a little kid looked at her. That little black eyed kid, whose name no one ever seemed to remember. At times, truly involuntarily, she found herself wishing that the older ones would choose to pick on him. At least, if he were bullied, he'd stop looking at her with those wide, unblinking eyes.

But even the older bullies didn't want to approach him…there was something about him, as he stayed there, huddled in the corner of the room biting his nails…something decidedly unsettling about the way he looked at things. As though he could see right through your thoughts. People didn't want to approach him, not even for bullying.

The novice shrugged imperceptibly, trying to ignore the tightening of her gut. She turned around quickly, deciding that she'd go dissolve their fight after all. At least that would make her stop thinking about that one freaky little kid…

After a few hours, they rounded up all the children, made them recite their prayers, and put them to bed as usual. That was the schedule: church service and classes in the morning, homework and recreation in the evening, recitation of prayers and then back to sleep. Of course the younger ones, like that black-eyed kid, did not go to school yet…he mustn't be more than five years old, the novice thought.

And so the night came, and all lights were shut. Covered in this strict, overpowering darkness, the orphanage seemed like a giant tomb. In the morning, the bells would clang, signaling the commencement of the morning service. Then, they'd have to gather the children to the courtyard and into the temple for their morning prayer.

But until the bells rung, the young novice still had some time. She lay on her bed, in her small bedroom, and waited a few hours until she was sure that the others were all asleep.

Then, a few minutes after midnight, she stood and exited the room, as usual.

"Uh…a-ah…Pi…erre…"

They'd made sure to choose a very remote, small storage room. It was located on the far end of the west wing, in a place rarely frequented by nocturnal wardens, despite being relatively near the belfry.

No one would ever think to search in there, especially at one o'clock in the morning. It wouldn't take long, anyway – thirty minutes were enough for them to do their business.

Pierre, the rather attractive – despite older than her – janitor, was the only relatively young male in the vicinity. And since she had been raised in the abbey, without even having a choice in the matter of becoming a Nun, it was rather inevitable that she'd end up having a rebellious streak.

"…I'm…uh…ah!"

These things are always a bit uncomfortable. She was trying to hold her voice in, but it was impossible not to make any sounds at all. Especially since dear Pierre, with his blond hair shining auburn in the candlelight was rather intent on slamming her against the nearby cupboards.

It would only take a few more minutes, and it would be over…just a few more-

"…ah!…"

She opened her eyes in ecstasy, intent on tightening her arms around the man. However, the minute her eyes focused, she saw a shape, like a small dark relief, on the opposite corridor wall. She froze, realizing that apparently they'd left the storage room door slightly open, and…

The only thing she could see in those soulless black mirrors was herself, with her legs wrapped around a man's hips, and her novice's habit hitched up around her waist. Pierre pinioned into her, unaware.

The next day, the bells rung. Only now did she realize, as if through a haze, that that kid had never prayed along with the others. Of course, if the nuns detected a child who refused to pray, they would punish austerely. So the boy, in order to avoid being blamed, would open and close his mouth in accordance to the words of the prayer. But no sounds would ever come out. Perhaps he too had realized the universal truth, despite his young age: God will never help you unless you help yourself, the novice thought cynically.

The day that came after that night, the novice wouldn't dare look at that child. Those black eyes, sharp and fathomless, torturous in their indifference, would bore into her soul. Surely, she thought guiltily, that boy was too young to have developed traumas much worse than the one she'd offered him last night. But, amazingly, he didn't seem fazed, frightened or embarrassed of her at all.

Had he realized what he'd witnessed, or was he too young to understand what they'd been doing…?

The novice hoped so…but, for some reason, when thinking of those black eyes, she was sure that…that that kid had known very well what he was seeing.

Apparently, the boy was one of_ those_ people…those special people, who are just…born with the intrinsic power of perception. A creature more of the psychic than the physical realm.

What else could he see, with those piercing eyes of his? Could he see what kinds of disgusting things every other person in this orphanage was up to, after the lights went out and the doors were shut? Did he know? Probably, yes. Did he look scarred or traumatized after knowing? On the contrary.

When he'd seen her last night, a novice fucking Pierre against a slimy wall, that boy had even had a glint of triumph in his eyes. As though he'd verified his suspicion, by catching them red-handed.

The novice finally realized why that kid liked to roam around the halls of the orphanage so much. Like a hunched ghost, he contented himself with looking at others for hours on end, as though watching a reality show, trying to decipher peoples' actions and uncover their darkest secrets.

'Sick creature, which doesn't belong in the social formation. Why can't he leave well enough alone?' the novice thought with spite and shame. And he hadn't even seemed shocked to see her doing it – he'd suspected her all along. His placated visage had been, perhaps, the worst reaction of all.

That kid…he was a born jackal. A ghost. Unseen by other people – sniffing out sins and bringing them to the open. Able to invoke shame and humiliation just by looking at another human. As though he were showing to you, with his big black mirror-eyes, the deepest truth about yourself. As though all your dark secrets were not your own…he knew them as well.

The day after that, the novice was nowhere to be found. She'd left the orphanage, not even asking for forgiveness. Not ever speaking to Pierre again.

A few months after that, the Nuns called that child – bless him, no matter what his name was – at the office. They'd recognized his extreme intelligence from early on. For goodness sake, that child had been able to solve algebraic functions before even attending first grade! And so they'd thought it would be a waste if they didn't call someone. That child had never found a proper home here, in any case.

"Salut, L" the elderly gentleman with moon-shaped spectacles and salt-and-pepper hair said. The boy focused on him, obviously unaccustomed to being addressed by name.

They'd called that man and given him the child's information files a while ago. The kid had been left in the orphanage's doorstep exactly five years and three months ago – his parents were unknown, as was the case with most other kids here. He looked slightly mongoloid in appearance – stark black-blue hair, distinctively shaped eyes and sallow skin – but not enough to be ascertained of Asian decent. Most likely a part-European, part-Asian hybrid of some sort.

The parents had not revealed a full name, obviously not wanting their identities to be traced by their surname. So the only thing they'd left, along with the black-haired fruit of their loins, was a small paper upon which was written a single name. And since the boy needed a surname as well, the nuns did the most obvious thing they could think of: they made his surname start with the same letter as his first name. Who cares what he'd be called, anyway? He could always change it when he got older.

And classifying these kids in the records was real trouble to begin with.

Whammy was delighted. The child's eyes were just as sharp as they'd told him – no, even sharper. The senior man lowered his spectacles kindly, digging his hand in his right pocket and producing a silver-wrapped bar of chocolate, extending it and letting it hover in front of the boy's face.

"C'est pour toi." he almost laughed out loud when he saw the piercing black pupils instantly adhere on the object, looking at it with intense concentration, as though trying to mentally penetrate it.

Of course the child would have never tasted candy before. The nuns did not like to treat their disciples to sweets, in an effort to discourage gluttony. However, it was all right to treat him to a sweet now. Whammy had already decided that this child would not need to remain in France for much longer.

"You're a very lucky boy." He said in his rusty French accent, and meant it.

After all, not many people in the world are privileged enough to be considered possible scions of the Great Detective.

-

-

-

'_I…I wasn't…wrong…'_

-

-

-

L woke up.

As usual, the first thing he did when he realized his eyes were closed was to berate himself for having closed them in the first place. How was the investigation supposed to progress if he kept slee-

'_Yagami!'_

Like ice, the memory of that familiar face, etched in a maniacal, paranoid sneer, attacked his senses. Envisioning that dark derisive mask, L thought he could almost feel the suffocating pain in his coronary arteries begin all over again.

At the sheer memory of that horrible feeling, he shot his eyes open with an inaudible gasp, temporarily surprised when he didn't meet the sight of Yagami's face, but just plain darkness. Unconsciously, without really seeing anything despite his open eyes, he raised his right hand to his chest to grip the place over his heart, glad that his limbs were obeying him again.

His breathing was echoing in loud, harsh pants in his own ears, and, for once, his clothes felt extremely heavy instead of soft. The fingers that were clutched on his chest were convulsing uncontrollably, neurotically, as he tried to convince himself that he was not in pain anymore, and that his lungs were ventilating again.

There were a few moments of extreme confusion, as L realized that he was alive, or else he wouldn't be able to think, or breathe for that matter. He could have sworn that he acutely remembered leaving his last breath….had he…? He…

…Hadn't died after all?

But he was quite certain that…at least…

Thoughts and opinions about himself were always jumbled and disorganized in L's mind, but at least one thing had always remained very clear: he didn't sleep very often, and when he did, he did not dream. It was unlikely that he'd been seeing a long nightmare of being murdered by Yagami.

He'd been certain that every occurrence he remembered was valid. Yagami really had killed him…L had not dreamt anything up, as much as he privately wished he had. And since L had always been too much of a pragmatist to believe in the afterlife, he was reluctant to accept the possibility of experiencing it. However, he'd been just as reluctant to accept the existence of the Shinigami, only to be proven terribly wrong in the end…

Since the riddle of his own life and death was too complex and multi-layered for him to solve at first inspection, he contented himself with temporarily resolving the Death Note case in his mind.

'_It was definitely Yagami...there's no question of it after that grin he kindly flashed me...'_ L thought, looking at the wall on his right _'When the deaths of criminals resumed after Higashi's capture, that must have been Amane at work. The rule of the thirteen days was untrue after all, just as I'd suspected...the Shinigami lied to me at that time, probably under Yagami's influence. In fact, Yagami probably instructed the Shinigami to act the way it did. Self-absorbed and a sore loser...he used Amane's interrogation to his advantage and used her to divert my attention...'_

And yet, as the panic slowly subsided and he fought to calm himself, he found he could recall, as if through a dream, a feeling of inner peace. At the end of his life, despite Yagami's cold sneer, L had felt…content. The pain had indeed been overpowering, but, for a few crucial seconds as he'd fallen there in his Yagami-shaped deathbed, he'd been able to think again.

'_I was right!!'_

'_Yagami is Kira!'_

Seeing Yagami's sadistic face poised above him, L's inner feeling of accomplishment and triumph had overridden the pain in his chest, enabling him to become calm at his very last moments. At least, even though Yagami had physically defeated him, L had been right all along.

'I wasn't wrong…despite what they were all trying to tell me…of course I'm not paranoid! I know the eyes of a man who can kill!'

And so L died on good terms with himself, internally congratulating himself for correctly solving the case and identifying the suspect. His last moments had been calm, peaceful. At first he'd been fighting it, trying to shout to the world what he was seeing. He'd been angry at Yagami, who'd had the audacity to display right in front of L's eyes the full-blown capacity of his deranged paranoia, when L was completely incapacitated. That was the greatest insult of all, and at first L had been irate.

But slowly, as the critical seconds had gone by and L had realized that he soon would be completely unable to breathe, let alone be irate about anything, he focused on the personal, accomplished, happy aspects of his rapidly disintegrating life: namely, on the fact that he was proven superior. There was a wild, animalistic elation that threatened to surface in L's nerves at the realization that his assumptions had been correct all along and that Yagami had indeed been Kira. Upon death, L had been content with himself...and that's really what matters to someone who is dying.

L might have been defeated in physical form, but never in spirit or intelligence. His suspicions had always been correct. In the end, he'd been proven the smartest of the both of them. He'd detected and suspected Yagami even with the disadvantage of not having knowledge of the Death Note. Yagami, on the other hand, was never able to track L's identity down, not even with Amane's eyes, his police connections and all his other resources. L was willing to bet that it hadn't even been Yagami who had killed him in the end – it was probably the Shinigami.

Paradoxically, even though Yagami had killed him and smirked down at him…in L's own unspoken, private judgment, L had been the real victor. The sensation that he'd felt during his last moments was neither pain nor panic: it was glee at having been proven right, finally. Now he could only aspire that Near and Mello would complete the task and follow the clues L had left in their disposal. Still, he wondered what had happened with the Kira case, and what he'd missed…Despite knowing it was childish of him, L felt a tad wronged at the thought that Near would reap what L had sowed.

Temporarily setting these reflections aside, he unclasped his hand from his chest and tried to calm his breath, knowing that he'd have to focus on the present, sooner or later. He let his black eyes move around in their sockets without moving his head, trying to observe his new environment without making his presence known. Perhaps the new surroundings would serve as an indication of his current status quo as well – alive, dead or… something in between?

He looked around, expecting to see some sort of room, or at least some indication of light, shadow and objects. Perhaps he unconsciously expected to find himself in the main room of the HQ building, which was the last place he remembered ever seeing.

But something was not right.

'_What?'_

The word echoed in the chaotic depths of his brain as he stared around, finally realizing what he was seeing. Alarm bells started ringing in his mind.

Well he wasn't in a room; that much was for sure.

He was located in some extremely closed space, and everything around him was black. As a reflex to danger, his entire body froze, including his eyes.

'Coffin!' was the first thought that attacked him, unbidden and crippling in its suddenness. 'I'm buried alive!!' the frantic panic gripped his blood, and his heart started hammering in his chest, in blind fear. All signs of clear judgment were rapidly evaporating, leaving in their stead a trembling bundle of high-strung nerves. The man started scratching at his expressionless face with his half-bitten nails, frantic in his panic and unaware of what he was doing. In fact, L was too distracted to realize that it was impossible for him to be in a casket, since he was curled in his trademark position and he wasn't lying down.

Some may have considered it uncharacteristic of the usually expressionless L to show his fear so openly. However, the one thing that must be understood about the detective's personality was that, unlike Yagami who had trained himself to be expressionless under any social circumstance, L's neutrality was more of a natural tendency than a conscious effort. In other words, showing a neutral face came naturally to L. Of course, most of the time he used this to his advantage.

But there was one thing, only one thing, capable of shaking L's emotionless mask: illogic. When faced with logical inconsistencies, for some reason, L collapsed – at least until he could reprogram his mentality to incorporate the new illogical information. Just as when he'd been surprised to hear of the existence of 'Shinigami' for the first time, but eventually learned to accept the possibility. And now he was shaken once again: he considered it illogical to be trapped in here, obviously alive, when he clearly remembered dying.

It took a few moments of wheezing and panting for him to come back to his senses. There was no way he was in a coffer, he reasoned with himself; it was impossible. He wasn't lying supine and, despite feeling claustrophobic, he was willing to bet that there was no silky cloth under his body.

Blindly, he stretched his left hand in all directions, expecting – and hoping – his palm would not come in contact with some wooden barrier representative of a coffin. But instead of wood, his fingertips grazed a cold, metallic surface. His heart started beating faster upon the realization that, despite not being in a coffin, he was still trapped in a black hole. He gritted his teeth as he tried to calm himself, realizing that if he kept being so tense, then his elevated heart beat would increase his breathing rate, which was not good in an enclosed space with a small oxygen reserve.

Gingerly, he stretched both his hands over his head and started outlining the contours of his new residence. There were four metallic walls around him on every side. It was as though he were sitting in the middle of a human-sized metallic box, with steel walls. It felt more like a hole than anything else, which was perhaps more worrying than any other factor. It could barely fit his body when he had his knees pulled against his chest, let alone with his limbs stretched. Normally, this would not be a problem, since he always remained in a curled position anyway. But now, the actual restriction of movement was an inconvenience, as though someone _wanted _him to remain hunched.

And L had never liked the idea of doing what he was told.

He turned his head forward and let his palm slide over the lean material directly in front of his chest. The composition of the cold substance underneath his fingers was different than that of the other walls. L started suspecting that perhaps one of the walls was a glass surface, not metal. In any case, he could only see blackness beyond it. He started tapping his finger against different walls, trying to test the material of the surfaces.

If it truly were glass, then the whole situation would turn out quite different than L had initially imagined. If there was glass on the one side, that would seem more like an interrogation chamber and less like a hole buried in the ground…if the glass was transparent from the other side, then it was possible that L was being watched right now!

Possibilities started traversing through his exceptional brain with extravagant speed. Had he survived after all? Had he not died of a heart attack? Had one of his enemies managed to acquire his real name? Had he been kidnapped? Was he under surveillance?

If this truly were an interrogation process, then it would definitely not succeed with him. Unless they tortured his body extremely, they could never make him confess to being L, he thought. Confessing his identity and risking the possibility of murderous attacks was much more torturous than anything they could ever imagine doing to him.

Was 'Yagami Kira' behind this? Had Kira used the Death Note to sentence L to death by suffocation? It sounded neither as intelligent nor as efficient as Yagami: Yagami was the type of killer who was interested in the result, not the process. He'd get rid of you as quickly as possible if he wanted you dead, with the least repercussions to his own person. Let's not forget, L thought sourly, that despite wanting to kill people, Yagami, unlike Amane, had never gained the 'eyes of the Shinigami'. There must be some reason for that, and L was willing to bet that the 'eyes of the Shinigami' incorporated a hidden, dangerous clause, which he didn't know about.

In fact…this situation…the darkness, the isolation…when regarded from a cold, indifferent eye, it was less reminiscent of Yagami's tactics and more characteristic of L's own interrogation techniques.

He actually remembered doing the very same thing to a Portuguese murderer he'd convicted some years ago. He'd trapped the man in an interrogation chamber just like this one – perhaps a bit bigger – and waited for the man to confess. Needless to say, L had won, and the perpetrator had ended up in prison a few months later. However…

…however…

L told himself this was different. He clearly remembered having died of heart failure. What was happening? With Kira's metaphysical powers, one can never be certain…On the other hand, maybe he hadn't really died, and just been made to _believe_ he was dying. In that case, if he was still alive on Earth, was this some sort of revenge? And if it was, how had they gotten hold of L's real identity? How had they trapped him?

If L actually had not died and had simply been drugged, the most probable solution was that Yagami had somehow revealed L's identity and arranged for him to be put in this interrogation or torture chamber…

Everything was jumbled up, the clues and possibilities scattered everywhere…and L did not like it. He wanted things clean and organized. He wanted files, folders and programs. He wanted electronic speed and efficiency, not this disorganized human, metaphysical mess.

Yagami might be behind everything, after all, and L wouldn't put anything beyond him.

It was possible that this situation had been created by the Death Note, as a morbid way to kill L…but L felt completely in control of his own thoughts and actions. He considered it unlikely that he was being controlled by the Death Note at this time. A small voice inside his head reminded him that he wouldn't be able to realize it, even if he was being controlled by the Death Note….but even so, L opted to ignore that small fact for the sake of his sanity.

When he'd thought he was dying, at least, he'd been content at the fact that he'd finally escape this loop of having no solid proof against Yagami. Yagami's guilt was so utterly obvious to L that, in his eyes, seeing Yagami be treated as innocent was just like having a pink elephant in the middle of a room, which no one talked about.

But this time...this time, since he had so miraculously remained alive, he'd definitely win. No longer would he allow himself to be obstructed by the judgment of his human weaknesses. Time and experience had taught him that, when employing logic – even in metaphysical situations – everything can be solved. Life all comes down to mathematics, in the end. Who was where, and at what time. And this perilous situation was just a new problem to solve – nothing more, nothing less. He was alive and well, probably according to one of Yagami's plans…and he should be grateful for that….

But still…when he'd felt he was dying…it had felt so…real…

Unconsciously, L let his right hand ghost over his chest, clutching the white fabric of his shirt a bit and trying to stop the urge to rub his palm over his heart. So real…the pain had been so sudden and crippling…how could everything be a lie?

L steeled himself, shaking the irritating black fringe out of his eyes, even though he was unable to discern anything in the utter darkness anyway. He berated himself: if he wanted to come out of this – whatever this was – unscathed, then he would have to become much more aware of his current situation. Sooner or later, he'd have to ascertain whether he was dead or not. And if he wasn't...then where was he, and who had brought him here?

Shuffling helplessly in the narrow chamber, trying to find a way to make his long folded bones comfortable, he finally resulted in his classic position of sitting with his knees drawn to his chest.

A quick kinesthetic analysis of the walls around him verified that there were no cameras around…or at least no touchable cameras. But that glass plane in front of him was suspicious. Perhaps it was some form of window, or mirror? Perhaps he was being monitored…? In that case, he'd best not do or say anything suspicious. Let them believe he's less aware than he actually is.

L sunk his body backwards, burying his mind in musings. Questions started multiplying in his brain at the speed of light, and for once, there were absolutely no answers available.

Why keep him in such a claustrophobic place? If not Yagami, then who could have done this to him, and why? Had he died or had he not? Where was he?

In a flare of logic, he decided that his best course of action would be to attempt an escape via the glass surface. Never one to squander his time, he attempted to hit and break the glass in front of him. Aiming a kick in such close quarters was out of the question, so instead he settled for a manual karate slice.

However, just as he'd expected, his hand bounced back immediately, as though coming in contact with synthetic plastic instead of glass. There was no way he could escape by this route – this glass was untouchable, probably bulletproof by the sound of it.

But since L had submerged his mind in a sea of calculations about the velocity and force needed to dislodge a Plexiglas, he failed to notice a small green glow, which gingerly twinkled in the darkness behind the glass surface in front of him, like a barely discernible light. After a few seconds, the distant lime-coloured beacon came to his attention. It was shining from beyond what L had supposed was the plastic glass wall. His thoughts froze, and he just sat there completely motionless, trying not to even breathe too loudly. With bated breath and wide, unblinking eyes, he morbidly waited – for what he didn't know.

He only got two small flickers as a warning, before an explosion of light occurred in front of his eyes. The entire glass in front of him was set on fire, filled with a white shine so strong that it jerked tears out of his unprepared eyes. His dilated black pupils constricted helplessly, revealing his generally concealed dark graphite irises. He swiftly brought his forearms in front of his face, to protect himself from the sudden glow.

His heart was thundering and leaping in his chest, and if that weren't obvious on the outside by his barely responsive face, it was surely audible in the blood pumping in his ears. What was happening all of a sudden-? The radiation was so strong that it felt as though he couldn't open his eyes without feeling uncontrollable tears slide down his cheeks. And even then, he was forced to close them again, and press his palms against his eyelids in an effort to recreate an impression of darkness.

Long minutes passed before he could finally see again. Slowly, careful to wipe the wetness off his eyes, he eventually poked one black orb open, expecting to be attacked by a new harsh shine of light.

However, he wasn't blinded at all – his eyes had finally adjusted. There was natural lighting in front of him and all around him now, and he could finally clearly discern the walls of the small room he was sitting in. The white and green light that had appeared around him was seemingly coming out of nowhere, since all the walls and floor were made of solid metal. Perhaps there were light bulbs somewhere he couldn't see. Just as he had guessed, all the walls around him were steel except for one, which was made of glass. Curiously enough, the glass was transparent as a window and not silver as a mirror – this was strange in itself for an interrogation chamber.

But the strangest of all, perhaps, was the thing behind the glass. L opened both his eyes, careful to wipe the residual tears away. He blinked once.

Then he blinked again, looking straight ahead.

He saw a mousetrap, lying on a blue velvet carpet.

Nothing very fancy, mind you, just a completely nondescript, rather old-fashioned mousetrap, like the ones featured in children's' cartoons. Strangely enough, even though there was no piece of cheese on it, it was armed and ready to ensnare a greedy rat. L stared at the image of the small object, lying solidly in front of him. As though the glass surface was a window, which allowed L to see the world beyond his small metal box. And, apparently, judging on what his kidnappers wanted him to believe, the world beyond was comprised of a mousetrap.

L was never a person to dismiss even the smallest and most insignificant piece of information, since it could be crucial for solving a problem. Therefore, he granted the small mousetrap his full attention, resolving to decipher the hidden message he was being shown. There must be some reason why he was being presented with this object after all.

He stayed there patiently, staring straight at it, as though expecting it to do something at any moment. It wasn't difficult for him to memorize every small detail about it, from the ancient-looking plank of wood to the rusty, simplistic trap mechanism.

Entire hours passed, and nothing happened. L allowed himself to repose his vigilance slightly. Yet more time passed, and he stayed there, motionless and patient.

Vaguely, he considered it strange that he was not yet feeling hungry, or tired. Also, judging from the minimalist volume of the space he was located in, he should already be having difficulty in breathing. However, it was quite the contrary – his lungs couldn't be fuller, and the air couldn't have felt clearer. Perhaps there were vents somewhere around him that he couldn't see...but still...where would they be hidden? Everything around him was made out of pure smooth metal – not even a small bump which would indicate a hidden camera, a ridged vent or a white spotlight...nothing.

Inevitably, his mind started to roam as he stared at the silent trap. While part of his brain was still devoted to observing the object, another – greater – part of his mind started deliberating his current situation. If he was still alive – and all indications proved that he seemed to be alive enough – then some scheme was at work. Someone had brought him in this isolated room…someone who had known his identity. So L started evaluating all the people who knew him as L during the latest period of his life and who could have arranged to harm him in any way.

'_Yagami'_ his thoughts hissed immediately _'Always dangerously idealistic. His egocentric tendencies have been reinforced by the Shinigami power to kill effortlessly, and, combined with his solid convictions about justice, have created a megalomaniac murderer, prepared to dispose of anyone who opposes him.' _After a mental flash of Yagami's shiny auburn hair and paranoid sneer, L continued his thoughts with elevated heartbeat.

'_Is Yagami trying to reduce me to insanity?' _he pondered, letting his thumb comfortably find its way between his lips. His mind slipped, once again, to that time he had spoken to Yagami on the roof of the HQ building, in the middle of a raging storm. What a hypocrite. _'I'd have thought Raito's biggest priority was to kill me, not probe me for information. What would he want me to confess? My true identity...? He already knows it. Perhaps the identity of my successors? I didn't officially select one, after all, but Near most probably...'_

And then, as L had grown unfocused when thinking of the multiple ways Yagami could have been benefited by discovering 'Ryuuzaki's' true identity, he wondered if perhaps, with the presence of Near and Mello, L could become more dangerous to Yagami dead than alive. It was unquestionable that Near, despite his reluctance to compromise himself and take risks, would immediately narrow down the suspects for L's murder...

'_If he didn't want me dead, he'd definitely be able to construct a plot as complicated as this against me … although I'm not yet certain how he could have used the Death Note to stage my death…and Watari-'_

He stopped his thinking process immediately, neutralizing all his thoughts.

The old man's face kept coming back, though, and L was forced to grit his teeth. The old man…he didn't have to die.

…he didn't have to…

If only he hadn't been so dependant on Watari for the last few years…But when the panic in L's mind started growing again at the realization of his current absolute isolation, he knew he had to stop thinking about it, or else he wouldn't manage to focus on the situation at hand. With its characteristic disciplined stubbornness, L's brain skipped to the next prominent suspect, ignoring all other sentiments that may be worrying him.

'Amane' The word echoed in his mind, and he prepared to unleash a full-fledged tirade on her disadvantages and shortcomings, as well as the ways in which she could have served as a pawn in Yagami's schemes to destroy L. 'It's possible that, while my death was being staged in the HQ, Amane was actively preparing this interrogation room for me. Amane has always been Yagami's puppet after all...' L thought, but didn't feel a sense of accomplishment at this realization, since he thought it too simple of an explanation. In any case, could she really have had any part to play in L's current predi- SNAP

The detective felt his blood freeze as he turned to stare forward.

SNAP

The trap had come to life in front of him. It was snapping in two with the characteristic clacking sound. However, L could see no mice around. The trap was...closing and opening on its own volition. As though some invisible mouse was triggering it.

Was this some sort of visual trick – a hologram? Was there a string connected to the mousetrap? Was someone pulling it from somewhere...? But L could see nothing in the background of the image – the only featured and discernible object was the mousetrap in the forefront.

SNAP

_SNAP_

_SNAP_

The more time passed, the more rhythmic the tapping was becoming, as though the mousetrap had a mind of its own, and was extremely eager to destroy its immaterial enemy. L stared at it, feeling a chill rise up his spine for no particular reason.

Berating himself for having let his attention slip, he resolved to dedicate himself in watching it more closely from now on, to find out what had made it start working on its own. And he did just that. He observed it as it kept snapping more and more loudly and frequently as time went by. At some point, L thought that it would destroy itself.

In any case, L kept watching it with newfound wariness. He lost his precise sense of time, but did not fail to notice that it had been more than a few hours since it had first started going off on its own. However, since nothing crucially important was taking place immediately and since the snapping sound was becoming much too repetitive, L's supreme need to analyze and penetrate the situation resurfaced. This was one of his more distinctive, age-old habits: sooner or later, under any circumstances and when faced with no immediate threat, his mind would inevitably slip back to its cogitations, eager to evaluate the current events once more. Thus, he now resumed his search of suspects, who may be held responsible for his entrapment.

'_Mogi' _the ever-present sibilant voice whispered in his mind, weighing the name up and down _'He has always been searching for excuses to defy my orders…not to mention that he used to be an alcoholic before he joined the force. And he was having problems with his family lately… Why was he having problems? Mogi is dull and unimaginative…not to mention easily motivated by material goods. But he was typically conscientious enough to remain in the Kira case when all others in the Japanese police had abandoned the investigation…Still….would he be brave enough to betray L for great sums of money?'_

Immediately after reaching a standstill with Mogi, his mind skipped to the next likely candidate. He was experiencing the familiar excitation, which always accompanied the analysis of suspects' motives.

'Aizawa' after a quick consideration of the reasons why Aizawa would betray him after having left L's service, L decided that, next to Yagami and Amane, Aizawa may have the greatest probability of establishing ties with L's various enemies. After all, after Aizawa had left L's service, he'd been very hos -

_SNAP-SNAP-SNAP_

No sooner had he managed to finish his last thoughts than a loud noise was heard, echoing from the distance. He raised his head hoarsely, only now realizing that, in his inner musings, he'd let his attention slip an iota, and he hadn't been watching the mousetrap as carefully as he should have. This place was taking a toll on his concentration after all...

But now, when he raised his eyes, he saw not one snapping mousetrap, but two.

Unwilling to accept that he'd been caught a bit unawares; he started finding reasons to justify the sudden appearance of the second object. This was a visual trick, he kept reminding himself, but found his concentration falling more than once because of the continuous snapping noises.

This must be some sort of illusion, he pondered: nothing but a canny way to intimidate him. He started thinking about ways a three-dimensional hallucination like this could be constructed. But just as he had found a theoretical way to create an image like this using computers, a new invasive sound rung around him, and, amazed, he witnessed the materialization of a new, snapping, mousetrap.

There! The sudden appearance of the third trap only served to verify his suspicion of this system being an application of-

_SNAP_

_SNAP_

If anyone had done this, it must be Raito's extraordinarily resourceful brain. L was now almost sure of it. And if Yagami had indeed done this, then he-

_SNAP_

_SNAP_

_SNAP_

Before he knew it, there were not two, not three, but dozens of them, snapping as though possessed by some evil force, maniacally killing invisible mice. And the more time passed, the more frantic the snaps were becoming, the more triggers appeared, splitting harshly in two.

Perhaps then-

SNAP

_SNAP_

Or if-

_SNAP_

'_Let me think, damn you!'_

L's teeth had started gritting harshly against each other, and his eyes were growing hoarse. He couldn't think effectively under these circumstances! The insistent, repetitive sounds were always growing stronger and more distracting, and they couldn't serve as a calm buffer to his thoughts anymore.

Trying to focus on something else, he turned to look at the mousetraps themselves. But the sudden motions, sharp and lethal, seemed too harsh and barbaric to help him contemplate. Resting his palms against his face, he hunched forward and tried his new method: to patiently wait for it to stop.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes later, it still wasn't stopping. L gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes.

This was all probably some ornate technique to drive him to insanity, he wagered, a scheme arranged as revenge by one of his enemies; an enemy who knew his intolerance to irrationality. Just as the thought was formed in his mind, he saw a new mousetrap materialize right in front of his eyes, as if to taunt him with its presence.

L stared at it, unwilling to accept that perhaps he was glaring at it. He did consider bringing his fist against the glass, but soon dismissed the possibility, remembering that his hand would bounce backwards from the plastic see-through surface. And L was never a man to engage in fruitless and illogical pursuits.

Minutes passed, and the small snapping objects were filling his vision. Despite not keen on using his imagination, L fancied that each mousetrap, as it snapped and opened, resembled a cackling, snake-like smile. Somehow, for no obvious reason, even though technically he should not be disturbed by all this, he had started feeling extremely uncomfortable. As if the mousetraps, which were snapping without any trigger, reminded him of something he'd rather keep forgotten.

He stared at one trap in particular, and, in an attempt to preserve his reasoning ability at the face of such an unreasonable situation, started evaluating its motions. The metallic handles of the trap were snapping almost with malice, as though they were insistently trying to crush an invisible enemy. For some reason, it was extremely...unnerving to watch.

Eager for a solution, L decided to solve the problem with logic. He started tracing all his actions ever since the first mousetrap appeared. But, ad it turned out, the more he thought about something he might have done that may have triggered such a response, the more he could not find any solution.

He hadn't touched the glass surface again, since that one time he'd banged his hand on it...ever since the mousetrap had appeared he'd just...sat there...doing nothing...watching and thinking. In fact, he hadn't even been thinking about the mousetrap itself, just generally analyzing the current situation and thinking about possible suspects...

After a long time of excruciating analysis, L could only conclude that, indeed, he had done nothing to provoke this response. The most likely probability was that someone, either his kidnappers or Yagami, had locked him in this room, and were presenting him with maddening hallucinations in an attempt to renegade his reasoning ability. This was all a grand scheme...a plot...some kind of revenge against-

A new mousetrap appeared, snapping into thin air.

L stopped thinking for a moment and stared at it. There were more than two hundred of them now, and they were filling his entire vision. Some of them were pressed up against the glass, snapping their wares right in front of his nose. The claustrophobic space kept provoking the visual illusion that they would lunge right at his face at any time.

The detective raised his hand to his head, smoothing his fringe down – an unconscious nervous gesture he had not indulged in since early childhood, and a sure sign of discomfort. His eyes were still fixed on the latest mousetrap that had appeared. Automatically, his mind started trying to associate the appearance of the trap with another occurrence.

He had noticed, despite himself, that it had appeared at the same time he had started thinking about...suspects.

Experimentally, L tried to think about suspects again. Yagami's snake-like face, complete with slit eyes, immediately came to the detective's mind. The next person he thought about was Amane, Yagami's infamous blood-drenched doll. L was very vigilant, careful to keep track of all his thoughts – becoming aware of his thoughts was the first stage.

However, even though he intentionally kept thinking about suspects and their schemes, he could see no new mousetraps appear whatsoever. This idea was ineffective, he concluded. He knew that it had been a slightly unorthodox idea when he assumed the mousetraps were appearing according to his thoughts... but, then again, so were the Shinigami and the Death Note. Anything with a substantial percentage of probability was worth a try, L reminded himself.

SNAP SNAP

_SNAP_

Absently, and still trying to ignore the constant noise, which was making his pulse race, L tried to think clearly once more. A mousetrap was an everyday item...nothing extravagant or unusual. So why was he being presented with it? What part of a mousetrap was he supposed to pay attention to? Was there something about the nature of a trap that they wanted him to notice?

Perhaps one of the crooks L had condemned to prison wanted to take revenge and was trying to show that he did not appreciate a 'trap'? A revenge plot was indeed the most likely scenario...perhaps it was Jacob Merlock, that murderer who had been -

A new mousetrap appeared and started snapping, rolling its harsh iron extremities in the corner of L's vision. He was now certain that that object had appeared at the exact moment he'd started thinking about a new suspect. There was just no other way to explain it: obviously, a trap would only appear if he was thinking unconsciously, not intentionally, about a suspect.

And if that was the case, L thought with a small element of surprise, judging from the extreme proliferation of these mousetraps, he must have been unconsciously thinking about new suspects approximately every fifty-seven seconds for the last few hours. In other words, if a mousetrap appeared every time L considered a new possibility of a scheme...

...then he'd considered at least two-hundred and twenty suspects in the last few hours.

SNAP

Well...he hadn't really realized that evaluating suspects had consumed so much of his thoughts, when he didn't have anything else to think about...

Now a bit wary, L tried to wrap his mind around the idea of a trap snapping by itself. Like a machine that's longing to work even without a programmer. A trap that snaps so manically on its own volition is trying to complete its function: to crush a mouse, even when the mouse does not exist. After all, what use is a mousetrap without a mouse to capture?

SNAP SNAP

But the very fact that the mouse does not exist serves to indicate...that there is no real threat?

_SNAP_

For some reason, the notion made L uncomfortable. His wide eyes, which were fixed on the occurrences in front of him, started moving from one flailing object to the next. These mousetraps were snapping on their own...as though trying to catch invisible enemies. And since the appearance of a mousetrap was positively associated with the time L spent thinking about suspects or schemes...

...was there a hidden message?

Were L thoughts being associated with a snapping mousetrap?

Unconsciously, L turned his face away, willing the image to disappear and allow him to ponder in peace. But the vicious snapping, like the jaws of the barbaric piranha, continued pelting the very sanity off his mind.

An incongruous idea then installed itself in his thoughts, and he could not make himself stop thinking about it. This was much like when he'd had a great revelation about his personal will to prove Yagami Raito guilty: he couldn't stop thinking about his new discovery. But this time...he didn't like where his thoughts were going.

SNAP

L wasn't like a 'mousetrap', he told himself. His situation was completely different.

He wasn't snapping away on thin air, trying to find schemes and suspects where there were none. Not trusting people was not only a natural part of his character – it was a necessity for his job. His circumstances were completely different than those of a mousetrap. He never started suspecting people and 'snapping' without a good trigger.

It was true that he had never been zealous in his work...but it was a bit exaggerated to say that he was obsessed with suspicion...wasn't it? He may be more interested in the mechanics of a suspect hunt than the actual reasons for the hunt...but that did not imply that his mind was like a 'snapping mousetrap', trying to detect non-existent threats...was it?

And yet, despite his affirmations, the doubts inside him could not help but grow: perhaps he was being short-sighted? Was he ignoring some logical clause? Was he being too dogged? Was he being too compliant?

SNAP

_SNAP_

He buried his face in his knees, and covered his head with his hands, squeezing his skull. If only the bloody noises would stop, he'd finally manage to start thinking clearly about who could have done this to him! Whoever it was, they were-

As though trying to mock him, a new mousetrap appeared in front of him, crushing its invisible mouse with rabid fervour.

The mousetrap had appeared when he'd started thinking that someone had trapped him in here...so did this mean that...was the mousetrap a clue? Was he being indirectly told that he was trying to catch a nonexistent enemy? Was he being told that...no one was guilty? There really was no suspect?

But if it was indeed true that this was not someone's gaudy scheme...if Yagami had truly not used the Death Note to-

-then how was L-?

Was he-?

L's wide eyes started to falter as he stared forward, unable to stay unblinking for very long.

No suspect?

-

He felt as though his mind was under siege, as though he was locked in a fortress with barbarians all around. Minutes passed, frantically. The noises weren't calming, but becoming louder instead. His eyes were starting to blink more often, and stay closed for longer periods.

Even though his logic informed him it would be fruitless – not to mention dangerous – to try hitting the glass with all those hostile objects on the other end, the sensation of claustrophobia and suffocation had inevitably started to prevail. The entire glass window was covered with traps, from top to bottom. L had been subjected to the awfully loud snapping noises for so long that they'd started reverberating in his brain. A quick mental survey of his current situation reassured him that he now had 34 probability of going insane within twenty four hours, if he did not escape this situation as soon as possible.

There were two ways to stop the noises and relieve himself: the first solution was to attempt an escape, which was clearly not a real, applicable option, under the circumstances. Even if he somehow did manage to break the glass, the piranha-like objects on the other side would most likely destroy him before he'd even get the chance to walk.

The second solution was to try and indirectly make the mousetraps disappear. If they were indeed a hallucination, produced by some schemer – a new mousetrap appeared at this thought – then there was no way they would disappear on their own. However, if L's speculations were correct and the appearance of the traps really did depend on L's own thoughts...then perhaps he could reverse the process and start making them disappear. Just as he could make them appear by thinking the 'wrong' thing, perhaps he could make them disappear by thinking something 'right'.

For all its irrationality, this notion struck L as having a strangely logical undercurrent. As the Bard says, '_though this be madness, yet there is method in't! _Seeing as there was no other solution openly available at this time, perhaps this was worth a try no matter how remote the possibility of it working. In order to make a mousetrap disappear with his mind alone, he would have to reverse his mentality. As his former experiments had proved, it was not enough to try and consciously think about something...he had to believe in what he was thinking, which was the most difficult element of all. Since, generally speaking, L was not very good at changing his beliefs. When something got stuck in his mind, it was very difficult for the notion to be dislodged – as proved by his borderline obsession with Yagami. In more plebeian wording, L was awfully stubborn.

Still, he was also resilient, decisive ad able to keep his calm. What he had to do was start thinking the exact opposite of what he'd been thinking until now: that there was no one doing this to him, that no one had kidnapped him, that Yagami was not capable of creating this elaborate scheme, that this situation was much too elaborate for any scheme produced by a human...and, finally, that there was a great probability that L was...not alive anymore.

Even though L thought all of this, he could not see any visible mousetrap disappear. This was to be expected, he sourly thought, since he was just thinking these things without believing them. But he was not yet prepared to give up. His thoughts were the only weapon he had against this avalanche, this onslaught of panic, and he was willing to adapt them as necessary.

Therefore, not only did he have to think about these things and try to affirm himself: he had to find arguments in order to make himself believe these notions. So, faced with the threat of torrential insanity, L immediately initiated the process of trying to analyze the situation all over again but this time reach a different conclusion and reject the possibility of some human enemy working against him.

It was indeed possible that there was no scheme at work here, he thought, and tried to suppress the seemingly intrinsic need to reject this suggestion. What if he had indeed died, and was now experiencing some form of afterlife? Thinking back to the last time he had ever seen a human being, and the fact that he'd honestly been unable to respond at all during that moment...he could have sworn that what he'd experienced was death. And if he had indeed died, then it was simply not possible for someone to have kidnapped him, or brought him here.

And if L wanted to be completely realistic and pragmatic, it was more likely that Kira had killed him than locked him in some remote place. Not to mention that L was astutely familiar with every piece of the latest technology, and there was simply no way that holographic representation had advanced to the extent he was seeing with these mousetraps.

Minutes passed, and L kept his inner monologue progressing.

And then, finally, when L had become too involved in his mental arguments to notice the perilous outside world, a mousetrap disappeared.

His eyes zeroed in on the spot the object had previously occupied, and he almost allowed a feral grin to appear on his face. '_I'll defeat you! Whoever you are, you're clearly not capable of restraining my intelligence!'_

The mousetrap reappeared, snapping more angrily than before. L stopped thinking immediately, but the damage had already been done. He'd let himself be distracted, and now he had to start all over again.

His fingers tightened on his knees. Well at least now he knew it could be done. He'd better get to work.

It was difficult. Extremely difficult. More than once, his concentration had wavered because of the atmosphere, and he'd slipped back to his old habits, thinking that all this talk about afterlife and lack of suspects was complete nonsense. At those moments, a few mousetraps would re-spawn to ensnare some invisible mice, and L would have to redo some work.

But thankfully, the detective was a very adaptable and methodical person. He was fast to learn and assimilate a new method, and always eager to win. In this way, he scholastically kept his mental inner arguments in check. More than once, he felt as though he were trying to swim up a streaming current, since at times it seemed impossible for him to reject his basic way of thinking. The suggestions of resurrection, afterlife or lack of scheming just sounded completely implausible in his mental ears.

Even so, L's main characteristic had always been his ability to adapt to different viewpoints – empathy the basic prerequisite for any good detective. As such, he eventually adjusted himself to this new angle of mentality, at least temporarily until the struggle with the mousetraps was over.

After what felt like approximately two hours, he had narrowed it down to five traps. With enough mental insistence, he managed to make the four of them disappear. Now he was left alone with his old, initial foe, and he almost could not believe that the view had cleared in front of him and he could see the blue carpet again. With a sense of decisive finality, he unleashed a particularly strong mental argument, which said he had unquestionably been killed by Kira.

The last mousetrap disappeared, its last snapping sound echoing like the song of a swan. And finally, for the first time in hours, L was left alone, in quiet, blissful peace, seeing nothing but a blank blue-grey floor, which had nothing on it.

Letting an imperceptible sigh escape his lips, L let his head fall forwards, resting his forehead on his knees and closing his eyes. On the one hand he knew that he should keep himself alert now more than ever, but on the other he simply could not muster the strength anymore, since the constant strain of mental control had taken a toll on his endurance. Now that they had all disappeared, he just wanted to sit there, in the silence, without thinking. He was unsure of what would happen if he started thinking about suspects again, so he wasn't willing to risk it for the time being.

At least he felt calmer, now that it was finally silent. Of course, the snapping sounds were still ringing in his ears, but hopefully they would quiet down soon, and he'd once again be able to evaluate the situation. Longing to scratch his stiff back, he shuffled around a bit, trying to rub his body against the metal wall. However, since the wall was made of smooth metal, L couldn't find the proper roughness he needed to relieve the horrible itch. He reduced himself to trying to scratch his back with his shirt.

Oh how the mighty have fallen, he thought cynically, as he realized he was behaving exactly as a common bear.

However, he ceased his motion immediately, when he saw something moving beyond the glass surface. It was a vague, distant shape, but it was coming closer by the second. His unwillingness to focus disappear within moments, and he widened his black eyes once more, in his trademark stare.

L waited with bated breath, feeling intimidated but not knowing exactly why, as he watched the thing – whatever it was – approach.

He was preparing to see another mousetrap...perhaps even a mouse. But slowly, as he managed to observe the thing better, he managed to discern a blue-green shape. Then, finally, a very familiar white colour appeared.

L felt his fingers pause in their position over his knees. A few seconds passed, and he caught sight of a black-haired head. The person on the other side of the glass sat down, covering most of L's view. Even if he wasn't sitting so close, he still would have drawn all of L's attention.

Because, quite simply, that person looked exactly like L himself.

-

Time passed.

L was moving his right hand up and down, watching the person on the other side of the glass mirror his movements impeccably, just like a reflection would. However, the person on the other side seemed three-dimensional enough to be real and not like a reflection at all. Not to mention that a reflection does not walk away and towards a mirror on its own volition and that the glass in front of L did not have the silvery colour and fragile composition of a mirror.

This situation uncannily resembled the one with the mousetraps. Initially nothing was happening, but there was a sense of an impending storm in the atmosphere, as though, by making one wrong move, L would cause something to start 'snapping'? The idea gave L a chill, even though he didn't understand exactly why.

He looked at the wide black eyes of his reflection, which were focused completely on his own, and could not help but wonder if that was really how he looked like – so tired. Then, after a few minutes, he blinked, watching the person opposite him blink as well.

Ironically, he'd always found mirrors incredibly boring, because he was sure nothing unexpected or intriguing would happen when watching one. Even so, who would have thought that he'd be so alert when observing 'himself' one day?

Letting his fingers clutch and unclench his knees in the smallest display of nervousness he would allow in front of potential observers, he started pondering, and his eyes periodically slipped in and out of focus, albeit always staying alert in relation to the surroundings.

At some point, L looked at his reflection; narrowing his eyes at it and watching it narrow its eyes at him. Somehow, the image of his own face seemed a bit disturbing, so he moved his eyes away and focused on the reflection's hands instead, watching the long fingers flex and twist above a pair of denim-clad jeans. Annoyed for no reason, L stopped moving his hands, and the reflection's hands stopped as well.

'_Definitely not a mirror, but perhaps a clone, or an actor?'_ L thought, immediately feeling slightly more comforted by the fact that he still had some realistic solutions for this situation. Unable to prevent his mind from roaming in its familiar way, L once again started thinking about the credibility of the current events, and to what extent he was prepared to believe that what was happening was not a hallucination. Perhaps that person who looked exactly like him was a trained actor that someone had hired to behave exactly like-

Out of nowhere, and entirely unexpectedly, a mousetrap appeared, starting to snap on its own accord. The only difference with before was that, this time, it hadn't appeared beyond the glass. It had materialized right next to L's foot. And seeing as there was not much space around L to begin with, the trap was coming dangerously close to hurting him.

The detective lunged backwards immediately, going as far away from it as he could and staring at the retched thing as it started snapping. Immediately upon seeing it, he couldn't help but think that he wanted to touch it, to ascertain that it was not a hologram or something of the sort.

But he didn't even manage to complete that thought, before another mousetrap spawned. This time, one of his toes fell victim to the snapping trap. Unable to help himself, he let out a minor yelp of combined surprise and pain. At least now he realized that these mousetraps were completely, and painfully, real. When he realized that, sooner or later, if he wasn't careful, the small hole may become filled to the brim with the death-traps, he started panicking internally. He forced himself to stay as far from them as humanly possible in the constricted hole, and immediately started trying to bring his mind under control.

It was difficult to become aware of his thoughts under the current circumstances and it took a few minutes of conscious deliberation to make the traps disappear. But the real trouble was doomed to start only after the possessed objects had disappeared. L had now become completely aware that, from now on, if he ever let his thoughts slide toward the wrong direction, the mousetraps would obviously appear next to him. And he internally shuddered to think of what would happen if he found himself locked in a small space with hundreds of rabid metallic triggers pinching his flesh.

Only now, that he finally managed to calm down a little, did he notice the person on the other side of the glass. The reflection was copying L's exact stance and movements. It had a face as ghastly as a white sheet, and two completely black eyes.

Seeing his own face, unexplainably, L blanched even more. But there was nothing he could say now...nowhere to go. Nothing to do, except mentally summon an army of dangerous mousetraps to keep him company...

So L settled down quietly, looking at himself; careful, for once, not to think of anything.

Anything at all.

-

L blinked again, watching his reflection blink back at him.

Then he raised his wrists to the level of chin and pathetically tried to scratch the ridge of his nose. This was the closest he could come to stretching, squeezed as he was between the narrow walls.

Nothing had happened for what felt like an eternity. Entire months must have passed ever since that sudden burst of light and the appearance of his reflection. Months, during which his hair and nails had not grown, he had not felt hungry or sleepy, months of living in a suspended state. L had reduced himself to calculating meaningless percentages and thinking the same things over and over again.

L didn't want to die – this was a fact. But his mental health couldn't properly survive without mental food either – this was also a fact. When the bottom line probably was that none of this seemed to matter anyway: he was already dead, wasn't he? How else was it possible that he hadn't been even remotely hungry, thirsty or unable to breathe all this time?

He stared at his reflection, and saw only a lost stare that he didn't recognize.

Technically, he should have died by now, he assessed with deliberately detached objectiveness.

His reflection blinked, and he saw white fingers scratching on denim-clad knees, for the umpteenth time.

And yet, even though he had no problem with breathing, he felt completely suffocated, forced as he was to endure existence in this claustrophobic dark cage, forced not to think of anything – forced not to exercise his power – unless he wanted to be ripped apart by the metallic jaws of a hundred vicious – and very real – mousetraps. Forced not to receive any mental stimulation or see anything except his own face.

At some point, days ago, he'd grown so weary that, contrary to all his inner inhibitions and judgmental logical restrictions, he'd started banging on the walls, hearing the unsatisfying sounds of unmovable metal growling back at him – they were all solid steel, without even a hollow spot he could use as an escape route. He'd seen the jerky movements of his reflection, and then he'd stopped moving.

He'd considered speaking, or shouting at his supposed interrogators, but he felt unsure even thinking something of the sort – much less saying it – lest the traps start appearing around him. If only he had more information, he could at least stage a performance or say a few well calculated words. But now...he simply had to wait.

There was obviously some purpose to this entire ordeal. There had to be, or else he wouldn't be here.

...wherever 'here' was...

It was a bit startling – and he had to admit, unexplainably bizarre – that he was now located in some place where Whammy, or even Yagami for that matter, could not reach him. As time went by and the attrition became more and more unbearable, the image of his own face became something despicable.

And what was the meaning of that reflection, anyway? To irritate him. Mirrors bored him extremely, since he knew exactly what the next action would be. Every small gesture he saw himself make, every single blink and unsteady expression, every subtle glance of uncertainty – he had begun to detest it all. And this was worrying in itself, since L had never been partial about the things he was seeing or saying. He was an observer, an investigator. A methodical machine, not a philosopher. A chess player, not a chess critic.

He wasn't supposed to work with opinions, but with logic. And now that he was being given absolutely no mental nutrients, his own extreme disinterest was taking a toll on him. If he wasn't allowed to think about what he wanted, and wasn't allowed to see something more interesting...how on earth was he supposed to find the solution to this 'riddle'?

Because there was no question in L's mind now. This must be a riddle – a test of character or perception. Much like the solution he had found to the problem with the mousetraps, he was obviously being asked to find a way out of this plateau as well.

By now, he'd almost – _almost_ – started to despair, his previous overconfidence becoming slightly shredded at the edges. But, seeing as L's solid willpower could only ever crack if his body was put under true strain – hunger, pain, deprivation, etc – he privately resolved not to give up yet. He would eventually find the solution and progress to the next stage of this little game.

Days passed, and then more days.

And then more days.

In all his twenty five years of life, it was questionable if L had looked at himself in the mirror for more than five minutes at a time. This was ironic, considering he spent most of his time monitoring the private actions of other people. But when it came to other people, things were always different, he thought: it was his job to look at them. He had things to analyze about their psychological profiles, personality motifs to outline.

And now, he had absolutely nothing to see except his own toes scratching each other. Gritting his teeth and not bothering to restrain his annoyance, he promptly shuffled around the narrow room.

After a short while, he shuffled again, realizing he was being juvenile. He stared back at his reflection, scanning the person behind the glass. If he wanted to be completely honest with himself, after being surrounded by Souichirou Yagami's men and spending so much time watching Raito, it was rather bizarre to actually see a tall, grown male curled in a foetal position. Sure, L had always assumed this position, but he'd never looked at himself for long periods of time. In any case, this information was of absolutely no use and no interest.

Feeling magnanimous, and growing tired of the lack of mental excitation, he decided to throw all caution to the wind in hopes of keeping his mind alert.

«Aren't you sick of yourself? » he asked in his trademark neutral inflection, the voice gritty and unused in his larynx. At first, no voice could come out. But he kept reiterating the phrase until it was clearly audible. He knew, of course, that speaking to oneself was considered a preliminary sign of insanity. In this case, it could be taken quite literally.

L was preparing to go back to looking at his toes, so he pulled his eyes away from the bored-looking face of his reflection.

«I thought I'd never ask. » a voice suddenly echoed, a bit alien and a bit familiar at the same time.

He jerked upwards so violently that he misjudged the distance and ended up banging his head against the metallic ceiling. The resounding thud echoed around him as he wordlessly grabbed his head and started rocking it back and forth in a primitive effort to nurse it.

Still, he didn't procrastinate, turning to watch the face of his reflection. His breath caught in his throat, and he didn't even manage to start choking, when he saw a set of completely independent, aware black eyes looking back at him.

His reflection was there all right...it was moving fluidly in front of his eyes. But it wasn't moving in accordance to his own motions. Somehow, he mustn't be so surprised by this. But by now, he'd been so used to the idea of this person beyond the glass acting as his reflection, that it seemed entirely abnormal to see it uncoordinated with his own movements.

L unconsciously slid backwards, adhering his back on the wall of his steel cage and trying to stay as far away from the glass as possible, as though fighting to push himself out of his prison. Staying alarmed, he kept his face trained in a mask of complete indifference, and was a bit aggravated to see the person beyond the glass grant him an equally neutral expression, as though he were copying L's trademark eccentricity.

The detective was aware that he should keep a leash on his thoughts, and not think of this entire situation as a scheme. He shouldn't think of the person behind the glass as an impostor, an actor, or a cheat, lest multiple mousetraps appear around him. The problem for L was that, if he didn't think of that person as neither an impostor nor an actor...what was he supposed to think?

If this person was obviously willing to have a conversation, then L had a thousand things he wanted to say, and questions he wanted to ask. However, as he reviewed all his questions in his mind – '_you can speak?', 'where am I?', 'who are you?', 'why do you look like me?', _and so on – each seemed more unintelligent than the other. Finally, he decided on not saying a single word, and waiting for the other to make the first move.

However, he was to be sorely disappointed. And hour passed and nothing had happened. Sure, L wasn't looking at a reflection anymore, but at an independent person who looked exactly like himself...but that person was not willing to speak, obviously, unless L spoke first.

So, after a meticulous study of all the possible outcomes of this situation, and the decision that taking this risk was necessary for at least his mental health if not for his progress, the detective spoke again.

«Am I dead? » he asked simply, feeling his heartbeat hammer against his chest. Despite everything his logic told him, there was some distinctly human element, some kind of extreme melancholy deep inside him that still retained some hope.

«Yes, I am. » the other lost no time in answering with a completely neutral voice, strangely using the first singular when talking to a second person. However, L was much too fixated on what he'd heard.

There was something breaking inside; that small warm sliver of hope that he had buried in his gut, along with the memory of his dying heart. Even though he'd known it all along, it was just as hard to accept it now then before. A fleeting thought coursed through his mind: the thought that this so-called 'reflection' may be lying to him, trying to make him believe he was dead so as to-

A mousetrap appeared, and L shouted loudly as he felt his ear being pinched painfully between iron claws – like the crippling sting of a scorpion. He immediately started reversing his previous thoughts, mentally repeating that this was not a scheme, and that the 'reflection' was not lying. Finally, the mousetrap disappeared, and L was now left with new awareness.

His death.

«I'm...sad. » he said by way of an assessment, to no one in particular. He had no time to think about his current predicament, or the fact that he might ignite the response of a hundred angry mousetraps if he thought the wrong thing. «I had wished that, against all odds, I'd... survived. »

No response came from the other, and L immediately shut his mouth. He considered asking about Whammy, but realized that if the detective himself was dead, then Watari had surely not survived. Asking about it would not change anything.

Then, finally, he decided to ask a new question. Perhaps the other person would only converse if L spoke in the format of questions, not statements.

«Is this the afterlife? » he asked, not really wishing to know the answer, since his mind seemed to be extremely negatively conditioned when it came to the subject of the afterlife. However, he did not receive an answer. The person beyond the glass just kept staring straight at him, as though he hadn't heard L speak. The detective remembered the last few answers he had received: they had always been answers in relation to L's person. So L decided to try again, with a new question.

«Where am I? » he asked, widening his eyes.

«I am inside myself. » the other answered, with a tone of a tutor, as though establishing a cosmic knowledge. L felt a chill run up his spine at the answer. He didn't completely understand, so he decided to specify, always careful of how to phrase his question.

«Where exactly inside myself am I? » he interrogated. Questioning was one thing he was good at.

«I'm in my mind. » the simulacrum spoke. L kept silent for a few moments.

«And how can I escape my mind? » he queried, feeling the hair on his nape stand on end. For some reason, hearing the person on the other end speak on the first person was extremely unsettling. L looked at the other person and noticed something rather strange. When he looked into those black eyes, he could see himself. They were like black mirrors, and they made him more uncomfortable than anyone's eyes – even Yagami's competitive ones – ever had. He felt simultaneously annoyed and strangely smug, not having known such a crucial detail about his own body.

«I must work. » the clone answered, with the same patronizing tone.

But, still...'work'? Work in what sense? L decided to ask for explanations, since he realized that he had just hit a vein of information. This simulacrum could give him the answer to his predicament! Apparently, there really _was _a way to escape this. How very ironic, that he'd just spent a month trapped in this place, when he could have been speaking to his reflection all along. Was this the solution...? Just...speaking? Just because L had been reluctant to speak to another – even when that other was himself – he'd almost spent an eternity locked in here?

«How can I 'work'? » he inquired, with rapidly widening and focusing eyes.

«By fulfilling the duties of a good detective. » the other answered, and L felt reassured. After all, he was the best detective that had ever passed the face of the Earth, capable of solving every single case he'd ever undertaken and capable of uncovering the Death Note, the best well-kept secret in the world. Even so, L was starting to become frustrated by the extremely evasive answers, but he steeled himself and called upon all his reserves of patience. He tried a different approach.

«But aren't I already acting as a detective, by interrogating you? » L asked, referring to the fact that he was seeing and talking to himself in the third person at that very moment.

However, the shadow clone shook his head.

«So then how can I fulfil my duties as a detective? » L asked, keeping his voice completely toneless.

«I must learn to observe. » the other answered, nodding his head in that way that was becoming rapidly annoying. It was a mannerism that did not belong to the real L.

«What must I observe? » L asked solidly, letting his mouth hang slightly open and feeling he was reaching the core of the answer.

«I must observe how to observe. » the simulacrum answered, and L shut his mouth and pulled back. A few seconds passed, as he looked at the other. Obviously, he should have used different phrasing, since under certain circumstances, the world 'observe' could be treated as the word 'learn'. He expanded the question.

«How will I learn how to observe? »

«I will teach myself. » L narrowed his eyes. Something was not being revealed here. Some elision of truth in this dialogue – some crucial information was either being concealed or distorted.

«By myself, do you mean you? » L asked and the clone looked at him, making L see his own face mirrored in the reflection's black eyes.

«I mean me. » the clone answered. However, hearing his answer, L realized that he couldn't solidly trust what he'd just heard, since it could be interpreted in a number of different ways. The reflection kept using the first person adjectives in a very contradictory way, and it was now unclear whether he agreed with L or not. L decided to bypass this particular element and skip to something new.

«When will I be able to observe myself – how will I understand when the time comes? »

The clone looked at him, unblinking, and then allowed a small, jovial smile grace his lips. L was slightly alarmed by the image, thinking that a smile looked most awkward on that face, as though the facial muscles were not used to the motions. It was a good thing that he smiled so rarely. Of course. He'd always known what was good for himself.

«I'll start learning when I stop talking to myself. »

When he heard this, on the one hand he became eager to end the conversation immediately and see this whole ordeal to the end, but on the other he became slightly nervous at the prospect of what was expecting him.

«Why are you helping me? Do you want me to escape? » He'd tried to suppress this question, not wanting to portray himself as needy. However, in the end he decided that he may gain some useful information from this question after all.

A small pause followed. Then, the simulacrum spoke again.

«At first I didn't really care about the escape...but then I realized that if I didn't help myself, I would just put my own life in danger. »

So basically...this person wanted to save his own skin? Fair enough...L could understand the motive, and considered it logical. However, there was something about the lethargic, toneless way in which the other spoke about his own survival...something about the way this person so openly admitted his not so noble motives...L's eyes narrowed. Perhaps this was why Yagami had always been infuriated whenever L expressed his will to keep himself out of danger?

But of course Yagami would be unable to understand the subtleties of detached thinking: he was much to infatuated with his ideals and his self-image to understand the acceptance of human nature. At times, L felt as though he didn't understand how a brain as complex and advanced as Yagami's could be so obsessive and with such narrow-horizons.

«What will happen to me if I escape from here? » l went ahead and asked the question he'd been considering ever since the beginning of this conversation.

«I will escape myself. » the other answered, and L thought that an answer like this had been obvious enough from the start. He wished he could have gotten something more objective – something he could pragmatically understand.

But still, he could only assume that he was lucky to have someone – even someone as unhelpful as his own reflection – explain some things to him. Of course, he had not forgotten the possibility that this was an impostor – a mousetrap appeared, and L swiftly made it disappear – but even if he was, then at least L would have some kind of indication – a stash of information, that would either be proven true or false.

If he didn't have anyone to tell him anything at all, he was willing to bet that the entire process would be entirely more painful.

-

L didn't really realize that the conversation had ended until he felt something change in the atmosphere. The shadowy, simulacrum L on the other side of the glass spectrum had not disappeared. He'd just stopped speaking, stopped moving, stopped doing anything. He had just sat there, like a soulless doll.

The detective had stayed quiet, trying to see what would happen next. He wasn't disappointed. A few moments later, the lights behind the glass surface started flickering. Soon enough, the grey and black hues covering his vision could only be compared with the static of a human-sized television screen. L waited, gulping unconsciously. He tried to keep a careful check of his thoughts and at the same time re-evaluate everything he was seeing.

Then, with a solid flicker, the lights of the glass screen flickered again, like the dying embers of a fire. And then, the grainy image of a huge surveillance video appeared. Right in front of L's eyes was situated an exact representation of L's own body. It was as though the simulacrum L-clone had never left, with the exception that, right now, the real L was seeing everything through a television video screen.

Unconsciously, at the sight of his own face again, the detective moved backwards in alert. Truth be told, the L in the surveillance video was doing nothing threatening. He was just sitting on an armchair, curled in the real L's characteristic position. On the background behind him there were various shadows of objects, as well as the easily recognizable tapestry of a hotel suite. He was holding something in his hands – something that looked like the log files of the Los Angeles BB murder case – and was studying it.

Then, suddenly, the sound of a voice in the video, stark, sudden and completely foreign in L's unaccustomed ears, echoed all around him, as though it were coming from the very walls of the metal cage he was trapped in.

«Walter, bring me the information sheet from Agent Richards if you please. »

It took a few seconds for L to realize what was happening. 'Walter' had been Whammy's code name for the BB murder case, just as 'Watari' was his alias for the Kira case. And Agent Richards was one of the FBI officers who had partaken in the capture of the Basic Believer. L remembered that case – it had been easy to unravel but difficult to execute. Agents like Misora, Richards, Soraya and Penber had been indispensable parts of the assault team that L had assembled.

This was all very nice and well...but why was he watching this footage now? L observed the person beyond the glass surface in front of him: the L-clone on screen, who was behaving as though he could not see the real L at all.

Unexpectedly, from the background around the L on the screen, the shadow of a man stepped forth, with his hand stretched toward the L-clone, holding a piece of paper.

«Here you go, Lumiere. » Whammy's voice answered, using L's alias for the BB case. The L-clone grabbed the page without a second glance, and the faceless hand retreated.

But L had recognized the calloused quality of that palm immediately, and noticed the slim silver ring around the fourth finger. Whammy. Whammy's hand. The extreme wave of nostalgia that overcame L's senses was only compared to his simultaneous feeling of extreme unsettlement.

He could accept that they'd found a clone to replicate L...but Whammy? How could anyone copy Whammy's hands to such excruciating detail? If there was a person on Earth who could recognize Whammy's exact bone structure, that was L and no one else – at least that's what L thought...

Overall, based on the strange angles and slightly discordant voices he was hearing, L was tempted to think that he really was watching one of his own surveillance videos. Only this time, he was watching himself instead of someone else. Was this what he had to do to escape this prison? 'Learn to observe' himself in this video, like he had observed other people?

He quickly scanned his memory, trying to remember if there was any possibility that he had really been monitored at the time of the BB investigation. But he was certain that there was no way a camera could have been installed in his hotel room, since he never let anyone except Whammy in the room on the first place.

So he'd never been under surveillance – there was simply no chance that he was watching a real surveillance video. He was now becoming more and more accustomed to believing that this situation was indeed not a human-driven scheme.

It was...something else...

In any case, L settled down, keen on detecting any hidden, encrypted messages in what he was seeing. It was strange to view a human-sized video of himself, especially when the L-clone on the other side of the glass appeared so very realistic. But still, L narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on any detail of the image he was seeing, any minor inconsistency that could inform him of what was happening.

There must be some logical, rational explanation to this, he thought almost stubbornly. L was a creature of pure logic – without it, he could not function. Whenever he found himself in a situation that was not associated with logic – like the sudden revelation of the existence of Shinigami – he started floundering and eventually adjusted. Fortunately for him, he had managed to connect the existence of the Gods of Death with logical cause and effect – this was how he had managed to function with the Death Note all along.

Unfortunately, however, this sullen place he was trapped in possessed the same atmosphere as that of the Kira case: dark, silent and slightly otherworldly. It was as though, somehow, he had walked in a plane which was much too silent and private to exist in the real word. L's heart started beating faster as he realized that, once again, he was now trying to work analogically in a digital world, by trying to use logic where it did not apply.

He watched the figure in the 'video'; watched and waited for some kind of clue, some indication concerning the reason why all this was happening, and what being 'trapped in oneself' was all about. Thankfully, watching and assessing people from afar was the greatest of L's assets. He had possessed the rare gift of instinctual perception since birth, to the extent that he was able to understand a person's psychology just by studying their temporary behaviour.

Perhaps the entire goal of this situation was exactly to test his reasoning ability: test the level his ability to assess other people – even himself.

Despite being focused on his thoughts, he caught a movement from the corner of his eye and turned to observe the figure beyond the glass barrier. The L-clone had jerked his hand in a sudden movement and grabbed an object from the side, pulling it forward and bringing it to the light to reveal a bowl filled to the brim with chocolate tarts.

L froze.

He'd seen those strawberry-decorated tarts before...Thankfully; his elephantine memory granted him the ability to recall a detail such as this. However, he distinctly remembered eating those exact tarts on one of the latest days of the BB investigation in the States.

In fact, the room in which the L-clone seemed to be located was an exact replica of the room L had temporarily occupied in America. Now that L thought about it, the video in front of him seemed like a window to the past – a window to the real world. The things he was seeing...had really happened. He really had eaten those tarts and asked Whammy for those documents.

He narrowed his eyes and watched with new interest. He was expecting something in the representation of his past to go awry, so he could detect an error and prove his mental ability.

However, nothing of the drastic sort ever took place. The L-clone simply sunk his hand in the bowl of tarts, submerging his fingers in an ocean of brown icing. The real L could feel his mouth salivating rather pathetically as he stared at the massive concentration of sweet substance in front of his eyes. Even though he wasn't hungry, he felt an old gluttonous friend knock on his stomach's door. However, he was never one to be distracted when observing a subject, so he suppressed whatever envy he may be feeling.

He watched carefully as the L in the 'surveillance video' shuffled his hand around the bowl of tarts, making rather disgusting squelching sounds as he tried to select one. The L-clone kept staring forward, apparently mesmerized by something. At first, the real L got the impression that the clone was looking straight at him through the glass, but he soon realized that the clone was in fact acting as though he was looking at a computer screen...as though the real L was a computer screen.

Then, slowly, the real L watched his clone finally raise his hand out of the bowl of tarts. He was now squeezing a particularly juicy strawberry between his chocolate-stained thumb and index. Then, without moving his eyes away from the 'computer screen', he shoved the small fruit roughly in his mouth, chewing haphazardly and swallowing.

The real L just sat there, watching, for once not sure what he was supposed to be evaluating. The hours went by, and he kept observing the simulacrum creature devour one nutrient after the other.

At some point, the L-clone buried a piece of chocolate tart in his mouth, licking at the tips of his fingers and then chewing with an open mouth, his eyes still not leaving the 'computer screen'. The real L couldn't really suppress a small flinch as he watched the display. He acutely remembered eating and enjoying those tarts...had he really looked like this when he...?

Suddenly, just as the L-clone was selecting a new sweet, a loud voice erupted from somewhere, filling the real detective's ears with it's resounding echo.

«Lumiere, the chief of the FBI is on the phone and wishes to talk to you. He says they may have uncovered some crucial information about the case. »

'_I already know it'_ the real L could not help but think. And then felt his blood freeze within his veins as he heard the words be spoken aloud:

«I already know» the L-clone said, chewing carelessly on his last bit of chocolate and displaying rather disgusting cocoa-stained teeth «about Guy Marlane.»

It was an exact copy of the thing the real L remembered saying back then...

...was this really an absolute representation of the past? Was he actually expected to observe and assess his real self?

The twenty-two year-old L-clone, 'Lumiere', gratuitively licked the tip of his index finger, and then finally moved, setting the now-empty bowl of tarts aside and extending his hand to some direction out of the frame. Whammy's calloused hand appeared from somewhere out of the observer's vision, giving the L-clone a silvery Panasonic mobile phone. The L-clone took the phone carefully in his hand, holding it in the usual way he held all pieces of evidence. The simulacrum did not yet speak in the receiver, taking care to adjust some controls in the phone so as to ensure that his voice would be distorted when he'd start talking to the chief of the FBI.

«Chief Callaway» he began, letting his black hair drop downwards to cover his eyes «This is L. »

And so the real L observed carefully, trying to understand exactly which element of this entire display he was supposed to pay attention to. Moments went by, and L's past seemed to be unfolding right in front of his eyes, just as he remembered it.

Eventually, entire hours passed since the initiation of this ordeal. The real L was swiftly growing weary of this game, which was entirely uncharacteristic of him. Usually, he enjoyed the art of observation and analysis. But watching himself...somehow, it wasn't the same. Truth be told, he didn't really want to-

He focused his attention back to what was happening in front of him, seeing as something had drawn his attention.

«We must employ all the leverage available to us, and if that means using his own victims against him, then so be it. » the L-clone was saying to the chief officers of the CIA on the phone.

«But, Lumiere...perhaps you should consider... -» a voice echoed from the speaker phone.

«I understand your concerns, chief. » the detective said solidly «But I assure you that my people have everything under control. I suggest you do what I tell you» L saw himself saying, with eyes a bit too blank for comfort «and you shall prove him guilty. Follow not my advice and you shall fail. »

A vane egotist, who was always right. However, L had always known this about himself, it's not as though he had ever been in denial about his own personality. Unlike Yagami, L knew himself. This was nothing new.

Nevertheless, L watched as, 'Lumiere' devoted himself to the surveillance of the main suspect of the BB investigation.

Basically, the real L just sat there in his cage, watching his past self watch other people. He decided that perhaps he should do his job and try to create the psychological profile of the person he was seeing – himself.

He watched the L-clone look at surveillance videos with wide eyes. L could openly admit that, from a social viewpoint, there was almost something miserable, about the way that twenty-two year old man sat there in the dark, when everyone else was asleep, biting his nails and waiting for the suspect to commit a crime.

Entire days passed – days and nights – and then, twenty nine days, during which the real L could do nothing except simply sit there, considering and evaluating what he was seeing. In all the time he had observed himself work on the BB murder case, he'd seen himself do four primary things: consume dozens of different varieties of candy, speak on a microphone, do Internet research and watch surveillance videos. L could count the times he'd heard the L-clone speak to Walter on his one hand.

Eating, watching. Blinking. Eating some more. The L-clone rarely stood up, going to the bathroom to relieve himself or take a shower. At those times, L would watch himself in the bathtub, noting the awkward rushed movements and the pronounced disinterest at self grooming, as well as the notable, rather sad absence of any pectoral hair. When the L-clone in the video started scrubbing his chest, he heaved a sigh, which the real L noticed a bit uncomfortably. Without realizing it, as he watched the display, the real L felt himself sigh as well, even though he kept his eyes fixed on the image.

Unbidden, L's logic addiction reared its head. His well-trained detective instincts began viewing and analyzing the information with alarming precision. He didn't even need to 'learn how to observe', since he was already used to evaluation other people's psychology – even that of himself.

And now, presented with this view for more than nine days at a time, L had a very good grip of the type of psychological profile he could create for the person he was observing: He was dealing with a subject who was antisocial, reluctant to engage in personal interaction with other humans and not at all interested in his body or appearance, except when forced to look at it. It was the attitude of a natural-born genius, an egoistic person who hates to lose and an entirely ambitious person in matters of mental superiority, but at the same time a recluse of society, suffering from severely misplaced social skills and inhibitions. His obsession with judging and watching other people was bordering on the point of vicariousness.

But still, this was nothing that L hadn't already known about himself, although it annoyed him slightly that he was being forced to think about it.

There was no need to make him spend nine days of looking at himself. He could readily offer all this information about himself without being forced to 'observe'.

Nevertheless, L pursed his lips, staying silent. He just kept watching the luminous black eyes of the L-clone, as they bored into some surveillance screen, like those of a sloth.

Then, suddenly, L heard a phone ring and turned to watch his on-screen self shuffle around in the hotel room, reaching for the mobile receiver.

«This is L» he spoke, and the real L noticed the grandiose way which the L-clone pronounced the letter «L». Well of course, the letter 'L' was the cornerstone of this person's existence, L thought. The moniker was the only way for this person, who was forced by his profession to remain unseen and unidentified, to find a way to defeat his opponents and prove his mental power.

«I see» the L-clone spoke, scratching one big toe with the other. «Then it appears we have no choice. »

L froze, intent on listening. He...didn't remember the specific phone conversation...There was something about this phone call...something...

«...for the good of the many, we must end this investigation...regardless of the costs...»

A small pause. There was complete silence for a few crucial seconds, as L watched himself on the screen. A small, spastic tic seemed to have developed on the L-clone's face.

L's heart was beating hard as he watched. The image he was seeing seemed to have turned dark blue, filled with grey hues, reflecting his thoughts.

«...make sure to allow the events to unfold. Do not provoke or resist anything. Follow my instructions, and I assure you the perpetrator shall be brought to justice...»

And then the L-clone shut the phone.

In the end, as the real L recalled, his suspicions had been completely valid, of course. He had won the case and defeated – no, pulverised – the Basic Believer. The man was a child-molester, and a top-class butcher to boot.

Seeing no other option, and having been driven to a corner... L had decided to take extreme measures at that time...

«But Lumiere...» Whammy's voice resounded around L, as he listened to the conversation playing out in front of him, and saw Whammy's hands fisted in restrained rage. «We could have saved them! »

«It was either that or to cancel the operation. And if we'd cancelled this operation we might have never gotten a new chance. Even as it was we only had a 47 chance to-« the L-clone started saying, but Whammy's voice interrupted.

«Lumiere» in the video, Whammy slowly walked forward, extending his hands, and set his palms of the L-clone's shoulders. And the L-clone just stood there, unmoving, looking at Walter with uncomprehending, owlish eyes.

«Oh, L...» the voice echoed again, with the characteristic tone which signifies exasperation. Whammy raised his palms, clasping the sides of the L-clone's neck and patting them, shaking his head the whole time «...they were children. »

The L-clone just kept staring forward, not ignorant of the unusually turbulent situation but still entirely neutral. After a few minutes, he spoke, with a completely blank voice «It was a difficult decision to make. But I standby my choice...this sacrifice had to be made, so that not any more people will be hurt. »

Whammy lowered his hands from the L-clone's neck, letting them fall heavily to his sides. With an air of resignation, he asked « You're so intelligent...why do you not understand what I'm telling you? »

«I understand perfectly. » the L-clone calmly said, in a completely neutral tone. «You consider this action immoral, yet, from your own moral viewpoint, you fail to see that by allowing a lesser evil, we succeed in restraining a greater one. » This was the only time L could remember that Whammy had ever spoken to him in this way. «What would you prefer? That we save them now and leave a psychotic serial killer roaming the streets, free to kill some more? » Reliving the memory was...unpleasant.

Whammy was supposed to be his assistant and mentor...he didn't have the capacity to advise the Great Detective on what to do about an investigation. He'd technically been more of a helper, a subordinate than an advisor. But even so...even though he knew that...sometimes, he'd turn and say something, completely unexpectedly. Normally, L wouldn't care about any of these words...the only thing he cared about was that the words were coming from Watari, and so he sensed he had an obligation to listen and converse.

«It's not about my moral viewpoint, but yours. » Whammy's scratchy voice echoed again, more quiet than before, obviously discouraged «The Great Detective must have the moral viewpoint. »

«I do have it. » the L-clone answered, and the real L could not help but detect an undercurrent of stubbornness in that tone «I solved the case and set a murderer behind bars. The world is now safer, and this institution is more respected than ever. » he said, motioning toward the computer screensaver, which had the letter «L» etched upon it in black relief. «Can you deny this? »

Whammy's voice was not heard again. A few minutes later, the only thing that could be heard were a few muted footsteps on a carpet floor. L was left staring at the L-clone, watching himself return to the computers and pluck himself down in front of one, as though the discussion had never occurred.

The L-clone seemed rather mesmerized by the electronic screens: reading data, making calculations and watching suspects – anything to keep himself from thinking about the present. Closed in a dark hotel room and making phone calls through a Macintosh, out of fear he'd be lynched or killed when he set foot out of the building.

And L watched himself, a bundle of sharp bones and syrup-stained jeans, curled like a foetus and glancing around silently, trying to pass unnoticed in the world and succeeding, even though he kept trying to prove himself. The paradoxical nature of a man who wishes to erase himself and immortalize himself at the same time. And even as he watched himself, expecting to feel some sort of melancholy or remorse for his clearly problematic behaviour, he could feel was a mixture of accomplishment and unfulfillment: elation because, once more, he recognized the ingeniousness of his superiority, and discontent because, in the moral aspect of a good detective...he seemed to be lacking in Watari's eyes.

Now he was watching the L-clone speak on the microphone, proclaiming things to the entire FBI force.

«We execute justice. » Lumiere said, trying to motivate the FBI agents. But now that he thought about it, L realized something new about himself: he personally wasn't interested in the correct idea of justice at all...Whenever he used the word 'justice'; he only employed it to appeal to someone else, never in relation to himself.

This superior genius in front of his eyes possessed neither Yagami's fiery, idealistic obsession, nor Whammy's careful hopefulness and compassion. He supposed that, in terms of...interest about the moral aspects of his work...L was inferior. And that idea did not appeal to him at all. But it was undeniable that he'd always executed his work flawlessly and logically.

The sacrifices he'd been forced to make...he'd make them all over again, if that meant he could successfully complete the pursuit of a killer. When it came to success at his work, it was probably better for L that he wasn't emotional and affected by ideals about justice. There was no one on Earth, not even the cunning Yagami, who could be a better L than L could be, because they simply did not process L's power of detachment.

It was true that he'd always viewed his work as challenging. For him, detective work was a question of winning a pursuit, not an ideal. And to win this pursuit, he was prepared to employ all available means...even if they went against the conventional idea of 'justice'...

Somehow, the fact that the L-clone had no expression as he talked about justice made everything worse. Like a rock, Aizawa's past words hit L's memory with force: _'I hate the fact that you can say things like that with such a straight expression!'_ Aizawa had shouted, and L had understood then, but not to the extent that he now did.

There was no ideal in these actions. There was no motive. Even though L could not deny to himself that his own mind was, indeed, the most ingenious and mentally flexible mind he had ever seen – even more so than that of Yagami – there was an underlying sense of...carelessness in all his actions. As though he didn't really bother thinking about anything except winning the game.

Perhaps, however...his disinterest was the very thing that was now aggravating him, making him aware that there was something missing in his personality, especially when compared to that of Yagami – L's greatest rival. And now that he watched himself in the surveillance videos, he realized that his disregard about morality, even though helpful to his work, may have been a deciding factor in his isolation: it may have served to deprive him of the much-needed human contact that he now pined for, after having been killed and trapped in an isolated place for so long.

However, L comforted himself, if his own lack of morality was bad, then what could be said about the other end of the spectrum, and Yagami's seemingly bottomless reserves of self-righteous tirades? At least L had been aware of the world, able to understand the inevitability of crime and unattainable nature of absolute justice. Yagami had always been much too obstinate – a child with minimal social experience, save for the situations he encountered in his prep school.

Unlike L, who'd been forced to hunt killers at thirteen years of age – ever since the death of his predecessor – Yagami had most probably woken up one day, received the Death Note, and decided he was smart enough in college entrance exams to be able to change the world.

L took comfort. If Whammy believed him to be immoral, then he should have seen Yagami during the last few moments of L's life. Yagami had always been as arrogant and obsessive as L, but on different aspects. Whammy should have seen the satanic light that the power to kill can give a man. Even though L could have easily used his position to deem himself a saviour of the world and kill all murderers, he had done nothing of the sort, but respected the true sense of justice: the idea of a system of laws, however inconclusive.

And was it so wrong for him, as a human being, to enjoy his work? He enjoyed catching criminals...no strings attached. He didn't like to think about why he liked it – just that he liked it. It gave him a sense of self.

Why? L thought, as he watched the L-clone silently chew on some chocolate covered lollipops in front of a computer monitor. Why must he evaluate? _What _must he evaluate? His own attitude about justice – if such a thing even exists? Or just his attitude in general? Was this situation some sort of mandatory self-evaluation time, where L would have to start feeling remorseful about everything he'd ever done, before he could be allowed to rest in peace?

And then, L thought about his current position: perched on the balls of his feet, curled around himself, eyes wide and observing another person.

Was this what he was supposed to evaluate?

Why was he...?

And Whammy was just...

L fisted both his hands in his nest of black hair, twisting the black strands in his fingers. The illogic of it was almost driving him insane. At least before, he'd had something to look forward to – the next difficult puzzle to solve, the next case to undertake, the next suspect to pursue. Now what did he have? Nothing. No reason to do anything. He was already dead, wasn't he?

What was the point, anymore? Yagami wasn't around to have a contest of wits. Near wasn't around to tell him what had happened with the Kira case. Not even Whammy was around – Whammy, who had _always_ been around – to give him some chocolate.

And oh...even if he wasn't technically hungry...how he wanted some chocolate! For how much longer would he have to endure this? He couldn't stand looking at his own face for another second, let alone until he 'learned how to observe', whatever that meant!

And then he remembered the words he'd been told. He'd been told he was trapped in his own mind. Trapped in his own mind...did this mean that everything he was experiencing was a self-produced hallucination? Were all these things...his own private thoughts?

A mousetrap appeared immediately, and he sighed, rejecting the thought that he was hallucinating.

'Learn how to observe', not just 'observe'... The choice of words was unusual...but did it mean that he'd have to start observing the situation in a new way...? Did it...

How much longer? What would he be forced to learn? Why?

One month of sleepless, non-stop surveillance.

How much longer?

How much longer?

«...that hurts...» he muttered suddenly, feeling a sudden sharp pain on his skull. Immediately, he moved his hands away, looking at the thing clasped in them.

Without realizing it, he seemed to have used a bit too much force when pulling at his hair, and plucked a few strands out. There was a small wad of black tresses in his hand. Disinterested, he threw it away to the side.

Then he turned back to the screen, seeing himself eating ice cream from a large carton. He looked at his own, computer-mesmerized black eyes through the screen, and wagered that this was probably how he looked at the current moment as well. Unresponsive, monotonous. Uncaring about morality and unwilling to change.

There was nothing to observe, here. He'd already seen everything there was to know. The man he was watching – himself – was a computer, not a human. He knew his own life perfectly well and there was absolutely nothing he'd ever done that could be observed or evaluated to consider something of interest. L's personality had never had any impact on anyone, and, likewise, no one had ever had any impact on him.

And he was sick of seeing his own fact. Sick of it! The only part of himself that he liked anymore was the sound of his own voice, because that signified that at least something marginally interesting was happening on the screen.

He wondered if the fact that he liked the sound of his own voice served to signify something, and if this was the thing that he was supposed to evaluate, or observe.

'_Escaping yourself_', he thought; as he watched himself chewing on his thumb nail _'Easier said than done'._

And then, he sunk his face in his palms.

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**The egotist is right**

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**a/n: MWAHAHAHA!!!... HA! I hope you were pleasantly surprised to see this chapter.**

**Looks like, while Raito is struggling to escape certain doom, out own little detective is coping with his own bad karma!**

**I'm REALLY nervous about this, so, if you can, please give me some feedback!**

**Thank you for everything, guys! **


	10. Jigoku Ekusutorutedo

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

**Ohhh! Things are getting seeeerious! We're almost there, guys!**

**In the end, I decided I'd post the chapter today, despite my better judgment. If I let it drag on for a few more days, I know I'd get more reviews. But on the other hand I don't want to be greedy, and I really want to know what people think about this latest chapter as well! The next chapter is coming next week! Be prepared!!**

**I know this situation is confusing, but I promise all your questions about L's sudden appearance etc. etc. will be answered!!!!**

**Hope I hear from you! I hope this chaprter is full of surprises!**

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**Hell Extorted**

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'_To be or not to be, that is the question;_

_Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer_

_The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,_

_Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,_

_And by opposing end them.'_

_- _Shakespeare's_ "Hamlet_", Act III

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A muscle clenched in Raito's jaw, as he ascended the final step of the staircase. After the earthquake, the building was falling apart. Raito looked at the metallic banisters of the stairs he had just climbed, noticing that one was almost completely dislodged, barely supported by a few precarious screws. The paint was peeling off the walls, the floor was littered by pieces of brick and cement, and all of L's precious security cameras had either been shattered or turned in awkward angles.

The auburn haired man remembered how difficult it had been to enter the building: basically, he' d been forced to side step various yellow ribbons – placed by the police in a perimeter around the building entrance – and climb his way through the wrecked doors. Even though Raito had been extremely disturbed by the fact that there seemed to be no other humans present in this world except himself, when he'd realized he'd have to force his way into a half-wrecked building, he was glad that no one was around to observe him.

Now, Raito carefully made his way through the dark corridor in the tenth floor of the building. He was steadily heading towards Misa's room, which was located two floors above him. The night had fallen outside, and all the objects around him were changing colour, wearing their nocturnal apparel. Even though nothing conspicuous had happened so far, there was a kind of dark sentience exhibited by the surroundings, which kept Raito alert.

'That's all'

Raito stopped in his tracks immediately, assaulted by the sudden thought. A few moments passed, during which he just stood there, not moving. But, unfortunately, once the memory had assailed him, it was very hard to dismiss. Unconsciously, he sunk to his knees, falling forward and letting his palms hit the ground. Then he held completely still, trying to shake it off.

But the image of Sai's serpentine face had grown in proportion inside his mind, accompanied by the revitalization of a pain Raito would rather keep forgotten. He forced himself to stand back up, and keep his head as high as it had always been.

'_It was all a lie…it didn't really happen.' _Once again, he repeated in his mind what he had already thought at least a hundred times. However, even though he was now sure that his rape – or any other of the rapes he'd witnessed – was a complete and unabashed lie, the pain felt completely real. The impact of the experience was still utterly solid. And even though he'd never even met a man named Sai in the real world, or ever been so pathetically disgraced in his whole life…it still hurt now. And the fact that he now knew it had never happened hurt even more.

But this time, it wasn't only his pride as a man that had been insulted. Something else…something else…after what had been done to him, something had been installed in Raito's psyche, which hadn't been there before. And even though he could not pinpoint what it was…he was afraid of it. Because even though his ideas about justice were now clearer than they'd ever been, his sentiments about himself were in conflict.

Naturally, he newfound knowledge of the true repercussions of a rape could only be followed by the augmentation of his guilt, since he was now completely aware of what he'd done to Sayu, and how she had felt. Even though it was technically all a lie, and even if he'd technically never touched a hair from her head in the real world…still, his subconscious mind had treated every occurrence as real. The guilt he now felt was real…the hatred for Sai, the damage to his pride…everything was real. Perhaps the most real of all was his complete isolation.

'Is all this trouble…really worth it?', he wondered. Perhaps it would have been best if he'd just died and been submerged to calm oblivion, after all. On the one hand, it was crippling to think of complete inexistence, but on the other hand, faced with all this peril incorporated with survival, perhaps it might actually have been best to die, and be done with it. He was done with the mortal world, anyway. There was no way he could now make himself remembered now. And at least in the silence of the _absolute_ death, that Ryuuku had promised him, he would never have to deal with all this turmoil again.

He shuddered to think what kind of impact this prolonged hallucination had had on him, if he now felt prepared and unafraid to face the absolute Lethe that he had so shunned during his life. Even though he was finally finding the values and ideals he had searched for in order to become a Godly judge, after finding them, he might actually be losing his sense of self in the process.

In fact, from the moment his ideas about justice and the nature of a judge started changing, he'd felt a part of him dying. Why was death so different than life, if he were forced to fight constantly – be it himself or some external factor? In the end, life and death may be two aspects of the very same thing, he thought, and hated himself for being reduced to this kind of philosophical nonsense, which he had sworn never to think about.

But it was now a fact that even if he wanted to die, he couldn't. He was now blocked in a state of suspended death, neither completely dead nor completely alive, and was forced to tread forward and face all his fears if he wanted to escape – escape either toward death or life, since at this point it didn't really matter. This was why he had to find Misa, he reminded himself. Ironically, that idiotic, one-dimensional girl was now his only string of hope. In this abyss of panic, somehow, Raito had been forced to find a purpose. And if meeting that woman was his purpose, and facing whatever evil scheme she had in store for him, then so be it. After all, he could either face her or remain in this empty world – empty of innocents, empty of criminals – for what was probably all eternity.

'_Misa_'

What did the puppets symbolize? he asked himself once again, as he reached the eleventh staircase, which led to the twelfth floor. After everything he'd seen and learned, after having been forced to endure hours within another person's body and feel what it was like to be in other peoples' position…even though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he had a fleeting thought about why Misa may be…haunting him. And unfortunately, that fleeting thought was accompanied by a substantial amount of guilt.

Since Raito was using the emergency staircase to climb upstairs and the building was rather tall to begin with, he wiped the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand. Once he'd reached the twelfth floor, just a small distance away from Misa's room, he found a nasty surprise: the door with the huge number 'twelve' was trashed, twisted in ugly angles – he should have expected something would go wrong at the last minute. There was absolutely no way he'd be able to pry it open with his bare hands, or find a way to go through it without chopping himself to little pieces.

Muttering a swearword, he turned around. He stood on the top of the stairs for a few moments, trying to think of a solution. He couldn't think of any tool – not even a crowbar – he could use to pass through this door. And then it hit him: there was another way up, through the elevator shaft. It might just be crazy enough to work, Raito thought, since this entire place was insane.

The more time passed, the longer and darker the shadows became, and Raito started feeling a decidedly strange sensation as he stood there, watching the shadows of the stairs and balustrades form strange shapes on the ground. Galvanized to action, Raito lunged forward, running down the stairs. He felt as though his time was almost over, as though something would come lurking out of the dark, eager to take him back to the avenging Hands, his worst nightmare.

Keeping himself silent and focused, he lost no time descending to the eleventh floor. When the door with the number 'eleven' refused to open, he took a step backwards and shot a well-aimed kick, making it recoil with a few clanging sounds.

A memory then attacked his mind and he stopped moving for a few moments, placing his hands on his knees and panting, trying to shake the image of Sai's rough palms away. But the image of Sai's hands soon twisted into his own hands, as they were grabbing Sayu's thighs. He gritted his teeth, and berated himself for indulging in this kind of thought when he was obviously in a hurry. But he couldn't help it. The inverse law of the human brain resurfaced, and the more Raito instructed himself not to think about something, the more his brain insisted on picturing it.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for him to snap out of it, since he was distracted by a loud clattering noise. He froze immediately, forgetting all other thoughts and focusing on the thrashing, which seemed to originate from the very bowels of the building. Much more hoarse than he cared to admit, he charged through the door he'd just kicked open.

All floors of the HQ building were nearly identical, with the only difference that some seemed to have more partitions and smaller rooms. Other than that, all floors were blessed with an equal number of surveillance cameras – courtesy of Ryuuzaki – and microphones. However, all of this hyper technological equipment was now completely useless, seeing as it had been rendered powerless after the earthquake.

Raito ran through the floor, trying to ignore the crashing and groaning sounds that seemed to be echoing from the very walls around him. Every time he blinked and reopened his eyes, for a few split seconds, it seemed as though there was blood splashed all over the walls and ceiling. Then, everything seemed to become normal again. But Raito wondered if, perhaps, the bloodstained image he saw in those moments was the real building under the visual façade.

'_There!' _he thought, catching sight of the elevator. Now the only thing he had to do was find a vent, which would lead him to the inside of the elevator shaft. Thankfully, Raito had lived in this building for a long time, so he had no trouble finding the aforementioned vent. The problem arose when he realized he had no screwdriver or any other tool to pry the hatch open. Cursing his lack of planning and realizing that the fear was starting to cloud his judgment, he hurried to the storage room of the eleventh floor, hoping to find some sort of tool.

He passed through offices and desks littered with papers, finally reaching a slimy-looking door and opening it. The first thing he saw was the red light and obnoxious lens of a surveillance camera, which seemed to be working perfectly fine. The retched thing was stuck on the upper corner of the room and Raito, as though by natural reflex, covered his face with his hand in order not to be seen. Even though he knew that the surveillance system was down, he still felt unexplainably wary of that red blinking light. As though it was the small mole that had suddenly grown on Ryuuzaki's face, to taunt Raito's ignorance.

In any case, Raito forced himself to focus, throwing a few materials – a broom, a hammer, an electrical hoover –out of the way in search for a crowbar or a screwdriver. When he saw a flashlight, he made an appreciative sound. Now if it only had batteries, it would be perfe…yes! It did have batteries. Raito placed it in his pocket for safekeeping.

Then he paused, coming face to face with a 3-foot, completely innocent-looking chainsaw, which was placed in a remote corner of the room. He turned away from it immediately, petrified for no reason. He started shuffling around more quickly. Soon enough, he got hold of a few different screwdrivers. He considered taking the chainsaw along, as a weapon, but the mere thought chilled him. He didn't even know how to use one after all.

Hearing the crashing sounds coming from downstairs, he wondered if perhaps he should take the saw along after all, in order to prevent someone else from using it against him, but quickly dismissed the thought. Running out of the storage room, he headed straight for the vent. But just as he was sprinting, he caught sight of something and stopped. Framed in a red, fire-emergency case was a small axe. Of course! How did he not think of it before?

Wasting no time, he drew a fist and punched through the glass of the emergency box with all his strength, pulverizing the plastic and taking hold of the weapon. Naturally, if anyone saw him walking around holding an axe they would think him a complete maniac, but Raito supposed that after having considered towing a chainsaw, he shouldn't worry about that.

With the axe in one hand and the screwdrivers in the other, he ran to the vent. Immediately, he reached in his pocket and opened his flashlight, checking the edges of the vent. Selecting the appropriate tool, he started prying the iron vent open, cursing Ryuuzaki's constant vigilance the whole time. Of course they didn't have normal, easy-to-open vents, like normal people! They always had to be extra-safe and ultra-careful! Normally, Raito wouldn't care as much…but when he heard the threatening sounds coming closer, he cursed Ryuuzaki for all he was worth.

Finally, the vent was released, and Raito climbed through. This was the hard part: how to climb upwards in the elevator shaft. Perhaps the most worrying thing was that he couldn't catch sight of the elevator anywhere, and he didn't like the idea of starting to climb, only to later find out that the elevator was descending.

He detected a relatively climbable pole on the opposite side of the shaft, and decided he had to catch hold of it to climb to the twelfth floor. But in order to do that, he first had to perform some less-than-secure acrobatics across the shaft. Hitching the axe on the belt of his jeans and the screwdrivers behind his ear, he leaned forward carefully, with his hand stretched towards the metallic ropes of the elevator. As he looked at the black abyss beneath him, a small voice in his mind asked him if he was really sure about this, but he shushed it quickly, knowing from experience that he would never succeed if he let doubt overcome him.

Trying to function only with the logical, desensitized part of his brain, he narrowed his eyes and, after he was completely sure the elevator would no suddenly appear, made the leap.

"Argh!" he yelped, as he held himself tight on the steel string of the elevator, dangling precariously and trying not to look downwards. But the screwdrivers he'd hitched behind his ear slipped away, and started falling. Raito followed their movement with his eyes, watching them fall into the black depth. He waited to hear a clang, which would signify that they had made contact with the ground, but no such noise ever came.

Instead, another kind of noise echoed. It was the telltale groan of steel sliding against steel, and Raito suddenly felt the metallic string move beneath his hands.

'Oh no!' he managed to think, realizing that the elevator was moving, and that he'd find himself falling very soon unless he jumped immediately.

"UH!" the sound of his lonely shout reflected against the walls of the shaft as he jumped. He hadn't really calculated his motions, and he owed his survival more to his good fortune than his own ability. Now he found himself on the iron pole, which was adhered to the wall of the vertical corridor. The elevator was still in motion, and, judging from the movements of the metallic strings, it was probably somewhere over Raito's head, moving downwards.

Cursing his self-prophecy, Raito looked upwards, and dread encircled his heart as he saw, sure enough, an iron platform rapidly approaching him. In the best-case scenario it would send him down to the bottomless abyss, in the worst it would it would pulverize him. Working on automatic pilot, his body lunged and started climbing – his only chance was to reach the top of the ladder and the small crevice on the wall before the elevator reached him. He turned off the more intelligent part of his mind and climbed the pole, not having enough time to be afraid enough of what was happening to him.

The ascension seemed to last for an eternity, when in truth it was only a few seconds. A split moment before Raito's heel was pulled in the crevice along with the rest of his body, the elevator passed by him. Raito held onto the iron bars of the vent next to him on the crevice – the vent of the twelfth floor – as the breath was knocked out of him.

When the panic was over, and Raito had a chance to reassemble himself, he realized that he now had no screwdrivers with which to open the vent. Fruitlessly, he pushed against it, but, predictably, his strength was not capable of dislodging it. Thinking quickly, Raito reached to his back and plucked the axe from his belt.

It took four hits on the bottom edges of the vent. Then, Raito used his whole torso to push forward, and before he knew it, the stubborn hinges had been released and he found himself rolling forward, landing on the cold marble floor of the twelfth level.

Letting himself pant for a few moments, he was jarred back to action when he heard a loud thud, like the sound of a train being derailed, echo around him. It was coming closer – whatever _'it'_ was. Thankfully, the fact that he'd encountered all these problems only verified his suspicions that this was indeed the place he was meant to be. Now he needed to find Misa, before whatever threat was out there managed to find _him._

Pulling his flashlight out of his pocket and switching it open, he started carefully walking towards Misa's door. He hadn't expected the twelfth floor to be so…normal. Perhaps he had subconsciously expected some big disgusting change to have been made around here. However, everything was set in place – no raging fires, no carnage, no Hands. Instead, he could only see a bleak atmosphere, as though the air was not translucent, but grey in colour. It felt like the calm before the storm, the kind of muted, photographic visual stillness, which can only be deciphered as unnatural.

The next time Raito blinked, for a few moments, he thought he saw the entire floors, walls and offices around him covered with red handprints. He shuddered, unwilling to think about whose Hands may have made those prints. Instead, when his vision returned to normal again, he rushed down the corridor towards Misa's room, expecting to find the door locked.

He was in for a surprise when he saw the door was not only unlocked, but ajar.

However, in all the time he'd spent in here, he didn't ever remember that door being made of wood.

But now, instead of the sterilized plastic, there only luscious oak wood. And beyond it, sparkling from inside the room, Raito could see a soft warm light – like candlelight in the complete darkness.

He blinked again, and, for a few seconds, saw the door covered with bloody handprints, and the dark shape of a woman hovering in front of it. Gasping, he took a step backwards, but before he could register exactly what had frightened him, the image had disappeared and his vision readjusted. This thing with the blinking was becoming a distraction.

He fastened himself against the wall next to the door, trying to look inside the room before he entered it. He was now gripping the axe with both hands, keeping his eyes wide and trying not to blink too much. The fading candlelight was reflected in his eyes, which, in their narrowed state, seemed to glow. The tempestuous sounds coming from the lower floors seemed to have dulled in his ears, and he wondered if it was possible he had dreamt them up all along. Finally, heaving a great breath and reassuring himself, once more, that he was forced to do this if he wanted to resolve his torturous existence, he lunged forward.

The wooden door gave a horrible creak as it burst open, and the hair on the back of Raito's neck stood on end. As the door slipped open he was briefly blinded by a flash of light, and his surprised fingers became slack around the axe.

When he opened his eyes a few seconds later, the weapon dropped from his hands completely.

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Dolls. Countless of them, stretching upwards, as far as the eye could see. But they weren't just normal dolls – they were puppets, marionettes. Miniatures of real people. There! That was Raito's mother and father! And lo! Wasn't that the clerk Sayu had worked with in her part time job? There was one shaped like that creature, Sai…and of course, let's not forget, the unmistakable black hair and white shirt. It was staring silently at Raito with its black eyes, a mockery of the real thing. Slowly, Raito bent down and picked up his axe, which he'd previously dropped in surprise, clenching it in his hand as he looked around.

And they were all watching him, with their red, glowing eyes, scrutinizing his every move. Trying to look upwards, he couldn't even discern a ceiling. The four walls were covered by shelves, which were in turn filled with dolls. There were a few wooden stairs hanging on the upper shelves – overall, it was the exact representation of a huge, old-fashioned library, except that it was filled with dolls instead of books. There were hundreds – no, thousands – of red eyes looking at him, fixed on his every move. Raito felt as though he'd stepped in a belfry full of dolls, not a room.

His heart started beating faster as he stood there, terror slowly seeping in his skin like the poison of a snake. Because in the middle of the room, sure enough, was a…a black, human shaped…thing.

Raito did not dare make any sudden movements, just kept watching. The person was sitting in the middle of the room with their legs crossed, and there was a huge, black, silk …sheet…pulled over them. As though Raito were being invited to pull it away and reveal what lay beneath. He noticed the narrow shoulders and pneumatic figure, and realized who it must be…

Scattered on the floor around the black figure were a distinctive few dolls, as though the figure had just been playing with them. Raito's blood chilled when he saw the marionette of a man with brown hair and hazel eyes – himself.

All those offensive stares of the puppets, combined with the unmoving black lump on the floor, made him feel threatened, so, unconsciously, he kept moving backwards. Eventually, he felt an obstacle behind him. Turning around hoarsely, he came to belatedly realize that the door he'd just walked through had disappear, turning into solid wall. He was now completely trapped in this dollhouse!!

In order to battle the upcoming claustrophobia, Raito tried to reason with himself, knowing that whatever he had to do would have to take place in this room. So without losing time, he decided to make use of the things available to him. He turned around again to check the dolls, and, frantically, started darting his eyes around the room, unconsciously searching for some means of escape.

But instead of non-existent escape routes, he managed to observe the more obscure parts of the room: the gaudy colours of the silk curtains screamed at his senses, and he observed the tall, red candles settled around the sides of the room, like the solid pillars of an ancient Greek temple, or the orange sticks of a shrine, each with a wish written on it. The candle closest to Raito had something etched on it, with the reverent calligraphy of a Samurai's name on his katana sword:_ 'Long live our Killer Lord'_, the wish said, and for some reason, seeing the red colour and smelling the heavy incense, Raito felt sick in his stomach.

Well, if he wanted to see this situation through to the end, if he wanted to find his answers…then he had to do what he was so obviously being invited to do. Taking a few unstable steps, he approached the figure in the middle of the room. He carefully secured the axe between the back of his belt and trousers and then, slowly, started leaning forward over the figure.

His fingers carried an ominous sense as they stretched over the black fabric with ritualistic slowness. He saw his hand's shadow reflected on the black silk by the candlelight. Then, steeling himself for what he may see, he narrowed his eyes fiercely and pulled the sheet away.

Staggering backwards a few steps, his eyes became wide with surprise and let the black cloth drop from his lax fingers.

"_Mi…"_ he started, and felt the very sinews of his heart start dilating in pure panic "_Mi…sa…"_

It was a corpse.

A living, breathing corpse.

And it was looking at him.

"_Raito_…" a voice whispered, but it wasn't a human voice. The…creature…was buried in a dress of black frills and laces, adorned with Misa's silver accessories and red roses. But on the rotten skin of the skeletal monster, the clothing looked less like the provocative ensemble it was supposed to be and more like the black gossamer gown of a dowager wraith. He could have sworn that, as he saw it beneath the silk sheet, he'd thought by the outline of the body that it was a woman, not a…a…_"You've come to play with me…"_

The thing leaned forward, stretching its hand toward him, as though trying to touch him.

Raito looked around hoarsely, searching for an exit, an escape. But there was no door, no windows, nothing. Only himself, an inordinate amount of dolls and corpse, which was trying to embrace him.

"…_Misa-Misa waited so long for you…"_ the voice rung again, and Raito felt his skin curdle. He dropped his axe yet again as he was pressed against the wall, and the thing started closing in on him, with the woolly yellow fuzz on its head and the cracked red paint on its rotten lips. "_But you never came."_

Raito's heart started hammering as he felt a horrible rotten nail graze his arm. eE turned his head away in revulsion, refusing to accept what was happening. But the minute he expressed his disgust, he heard a small noise, like the sound of sand trickling, and the horrible touch retreated from his body.

He opened his eyes immediately, intent on seeing what on earth had just happened. But the only thing he saw was a cloud of dust, swirling like a hurricane in front of his eyes. Infinitely relieved, but at the same time unexplainably perturbed, he looked around raucously.

With his body trembling unconsciously, Raito wondered if it was possible he'd just dreamed up everything that had just happened. Just as he was staring around, he took a better look at the place the corpse had been sitting. Now that the dark figure had finally left, there was a black stain, like a huge burn, on the floor in the middle of the room.

And then, finally, just as the breathy sighs of the air around him started to die down and he thought it was all over, Raito thought he saw a person, like a new grey shadow, standing in the middle of the room over the black stain on the floor, where the corpse had previously been resting. His breath caught in his throat, as he spotted the axe still lying on the floor – there was no way he could reach it without passing by the dark figure.

He didn't get the chance to ponder any further, however. As the dust settled down over the objects in the room, his surroundings were all covered by a sheen thick grey colour, as though it wasn't dust that had fallen, but ashes.

Raito thought he could smell the scent of something burning, just like the few times his mother had failed in her cooking endeavors at home. But this was not home, and the smell of fire was cause for alarm. He started observing the porcelain marionettes around, which had been covered completely by dust. However, even the dust could not hide their glowing red eyes. Even the doll that was shaped like himself was looking at him with a frown.

Now, as their bodies were completely covered in a blanket of dust, their eyes looked even more piercing. Suddenly, a movement in the corner of his eye drew Raito's attention, and he brought his eyes back to the ground to focus on the shadow.

He bit back a yelp as he realized that it was not a dark shadow any more. It had materialized into something…else.

"We've been expecting you." The demon said, with its red eyes.

Raito held completely still. He didn't know what he'd been expecting to see, but this was not it. All along, he'd been preparing himself to meet Misa's platinum sparkling curls and rouge covered cheeks. Of course, he'd supposed that Misa would also be in the form of a demon…but still, he had expected to meet her, in some form or other. But now, not only had he not met Misa…the demon standing in front of him was very familiar, and Raito had met him before.

The demon that looked like himself.

"It took you quite a long time to get here." The satanic Raito, dressed in a bloodied blue suit, said. His eyes were just as scarlet as Raito had remembered, and his diabolic face was etched in a permanent expression of sardonic derision.

Raito couldn't help himself from speaking, even though he knew he should prevent himself from rushing into things, at least in front of this particular monster. However, after everything that had happened, after he'd been repeatedly murdered and raped, he supposed that he wasn't afraid of speaking openly to this particular demon any more.

"…What about Misa…?" Raito asked, rolling his hands into fists on his sides. He'd thought this huge ordeal had been Misa's doing all along…at least that's what all the puppets signified….so what was happening now?

"What about her?" the demon echoed. Raito waited a few moments, expecting to hear something more, but it soon became clear that the demon was not willing to disclose any more information.

As they stared each other down, Raito was unable to stop his eyes from slipping to the axe again, wishing with all his might that he could take hold of it and chop the demon's smirking head into two halves, even if it did look exactly like his own. However, no sooner had he internally expressed the thought than he heard the demon speak again.

"Go ahead." He mocked, stretching his hands on his sides, as though to indicate a stance of complete surrender "By all means, give it your best shot."

Raito glared at him, narrowing his eyes. Even though he didn't appreciate being mocked, he could recognize a rhetorical statement when he saw one. And judging by the way the demon had spoken, it was most probable that he believed could not be harmed by something as plebeian as an axe. Raito berated himself for having even thought about it.

Remembering what had happened the last time he'd talked to this demon, he decided it would be best if he did not deviate from the unspoken rules of the game. He didn't want to see what kind of twisted deformations the demon would undergo if Raito even attempted to hit him with the weapon. So he decided to stay put, after all.

That did not mean that he would also forfeit his right to ask questions, however. He felt like he deserved it. Obviously, he wouldn't get any answers about Misa's involvement in this entire hellish nightmare. Perhaps if he tried to ask something else…

"So if not Misa…why you again?" Raito asked, leaving a few easily comprehensible elements out of his question and taking a small step to the right, attempting to keep as much distance between him and the red-eyed monster as possible. "Why after all this time?" After all, by the time these adventures were finally over, Raito's sense of time had been completely defiled. He felt like it had been entire months since he'd last seen this demon.

"…After all this time, you say?" the demon started, letting a low chuckle that made the fuzzy hair on Raito's forearms stand on end. "But I never left in the first place."

Raito suddenly heard a small, far-off, repetitive sound. Like the ticking of a clock. He took a reflexive step forward, raising his head and moving it around, testing to see where the familiar, horrible sound was coming from. The demon released another chuckle and Raito turned to glare at him, understanding what was going on. This devil was playing with him, Raito realized, and a muscle pumped in his jaw.

Slowly, as the demon laughed and Raito glared, the ticking sound started fading away.

Raito considered asking something new – or even start cursing this demon – but he never got the chance.

"Nevertheless, despite your tardiness, the time has come for us to compete, in terms of manipulation." The demon stated with an air of finality, and the blood seeping in Raito's lungs became as cold as ice. He stopped breathing, focused only on listening.

Another…competition, then? But what did a 'competition of manipulation' mean? This was…so sudden! He wasn't prepared to undergo another interrogation session. He wasn't prepared to…be thrown to the Hands again!

"…'manipulation'?" he echoed, as though asking for more information. But when he saw the demon's eyes flash red in hostility, he shut his jaw with a click, and decided not to ask any more questions.

"The rules" The demon continued, and a feeling of deja-vu overcame Raito, as he stood there in the ash-covered room, beneath the watchful eyes of so many small demons. "go as follows."

Raito braced himself, summoning all his powers of discipline to focus only on the demon's words, trying to forget about his confusion, about Misa…about everything.

"You and I will start climbing the tower via the ladders." The demon pointed at the wooden ladders on the sides of the doll-library. "You will climb the left ladder and I will climb the right one." He pointed at the two available ladders at either side of the room. "You must manage to overcome each obstacle you meet as you climb, and you must reach the top of this tower before me. You have three attempts to defeat me."

It seemed straightforward enough. However, Raito had had enough experience with this horrible place to understand that things rarely were as simple as they seemed and that when something appeared to be too simple to be true, it most probably was. The thing that worried him the most were the 'obstacles' the demon had fleetingly mentioned. So, risking the possible punishment, he dared to ask the question.

"What kind of obstacles will I encounter?" he asked.

The evil grin on the devil's face grew to enormous proportions "Obstacles that you will have to manipulate."

'Manipulate'? What did he mean by that word? Raito decided to ask another question now that he seemingly had the chance, before it was too late.

"What happens if I lose?" he asked, not realizing that his hands and jaw were clenching on their own volition. The devil smirked with a hostile, cold glance.

"If you lose…then you fall." He answered.

Raito just stood there, with his fingers fisting and loosening nervously. He didn't fully understand what the demon meant by saying 'fall'. Fall down the ladder…or fall to something much, much worse…? For example…the Hands?

And if Raito did fall to the Hands…would he have to start everything all over again? Would he have to relive the whole nightmarish struggle?

That mere thought alone was enough to propel Raito with the kind of unstoppable motive envied by many. This time, Raito had completely made up his mind about the kind of willpower he would commit to this competition, whatever it was. '_I absolutely have to win this…or else I'll end up…!!'_

In any case, a 'competition of manipulation', just like a 'competition of intelligence' was not too foreign for him. He'd been trying and learning how to manipulate people for all his life. Surely one more time would not hurt.

"This is your first attempt. You have two hours to defeat me." The demon said, and moved toward the ladder on the right side of the library. Raito, taking his queue, moved to the left side. Suddenly, a deafening sound of a bell was heard, and Raito felt the very ground shake beneath his feet. For a split second, he thought he was experiencing another earthquake.

But just as he looked down at the floor, the vibrations stopped. Amazed, he realized that the floor was not the ash-covered carpet anymore: it was the face of a gigantic, square analogical clock, with Latin signs to indicate the numbers. The pointers of the clock were poised over the numbers for 'five o'clock', and they seemed frozen in place.

Raito turned at the demon with a strident glance, furious upon seeing the demon already looking at him with a pronounced smirk.

Then, after a few seconds of staring at each other, the devil finally spoke, catching Raito unprepared:

"Your time starts…now!" A deafening beating sound started echoing all around them, and Raito realized that the gigantic clock beneath their feet had started counting and its pointers moving.

Not losing a second, Raito pounced on the wooden ladder, hoisting himself upwards. He kept climbing determinedly, but the ladder was narrow and he could not move too fast. Apart from that, the multitude of marionettes on the shelves around him were all staring at him as he passed by them. He tried to keep his eyes off them.

Fighting his urge to look backwards and check how his opponent was doing – or look downwards to check the clock and lose his balance – Raito gritted his teeth and kept climbing.

By the time he reached one hundred steps over the ground, his arms and legs had gotten stiff. He stopped for a few seconds to catch his breath, closing his eyes and panting.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a doll hovering directly above him.

He was so surprised that he almost let go of the ladder, barely managing to hold on. However, he yelped uncontrollably and steadied himself on the wooden steps, looking at the invader.

He tried to move upwards, out of the way, but it was as though he were being repelled by some unearthly force from bypassing the marionette. So _this_ was the obstacle that the demon had been talking about…And so, Raito paused and took a better look at his foe. It was the marionette of a black-haired man in a coat, but Raito couldn't really recognize the real person it represented, if any.

Then, finally, as Raito kept looking at it intently… its horrid facial features started changing shape in front of his very eyes. And slowly, it wasn't just the face that was changing…it was…transforming!

The porcelain skin turned into real carbon based compounds, and the clothing stretched to human proportions. Before Raito had realized what was happening…the marionette had turned into a real man, a real man with red eyes, who was sitting on the steps of the ladder above Raito.

It only took a few moments for Raito to recognize him, and his dark blue coat.

"Raye Penber." Raito spoke, and saw the marionette-turned-man give a small, nearly indiscernible nod. At least Raito knew that he had identified the obstacle correctly. Now he didn't know how to convince Penber to disappear again.

"Move out of my way" Raito decided to follow the direct approach, aware that each second he wasted talking to Penber meant that he was losing time from winning the race. However, Penber did not budge.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do what you're planning to do." Penber's voice rung solidly, and Raito was surprised to hear it: he hadn't believed that an ex-mannequin could talk.

This whole scenery served as proof for his theory that these marionettes had always been alive!

"Please, move!" Raito urged, unable to help himself make his voice more demanding and less humble. He turned around to see were the demon was located, and almost let out a tortured yell as he saw that the demon was move than fifteen steps above him, and still climbing. "Move! I have to win!…Move or I'll…I'll throw you off! "

"You can't be serious…I can't simply let you try and immobilize a thug on your own." Penber answered solidly, apparently not even considering Raito's dire situation.

Raito refrained from shouting obscenities, since he realized that this opponent was obviously not responsive enough to intimidation tactics. He looked away, trying to calm himself and think logically.

The title of this competition was 'manipulation', he reasoned. Therefore…he obviously needed to find a way to manipulate his obstacles – like Penber – to move out of the way and let him continue climbing upwards.

'_Very well'_ Raito thought, still trying to convince himself he was perfectly in control. He thought about the urgent way Penber had spoken, and also about the marionette's strange words… _'The way to manipulate a person is to strike their weaknesses…Penber now obviously thinks that we're on the bus together…I also have to act like we're on the bus and convince him to move.'_

Looking at Penber with new conviction, Raito gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He suddenly felt a chilly wind pass through him, coming out of nowhere, and again he was so surprised he almost let go of the ladder. Cursing his luck and this hellish 'competition', he turned his attention towards Penber once again. A new manipulation tactic was in order.

"I know it's dangerous…" Raito started, wearing his best nervous mask and looking around, as though anxious about attacking the thug on the bus "So I hope that you'll help me!

"That's what I told you! Just stay back and I'll take care of it!" Penber answered.

Just as he'd calculated, Raito saw the tight muscles on Penber's face relax. Raito internally congratulated himself. This was indeed the best way to progress. Now if only he could convince the other…

"All right! Then I'll just take my girlfriend and duck downwards, and you'll pounce on the thug at…" Raito looked downwards, looking at the humungous clock on the floor and seeing the indication of the time "…at a quarter past five?"

A light of determination dawned in Penber's expression, and he looked at Raito with completely focused eyes. He nodded solidly and then he looked the clock on the floor, and his eyes widened in innocent surprise.

"Yes! It's time!"

This was a piece of cake, Raito thought. Pretending had always come naturally to him. When he saw Penber jumping upwards, obviously trying to pounce on an imaginary thug, he mentally congratulated himself for his abilities of swift adaptation. The moment Penber stood up completely, right in front of Raito's eyes, he transformed back into a marionette and moved to the side to stop blocking Raito's way.

Without losing any more time, Raito literally lunged upwards the moment the path was finally cleared. He kept climbing steadily, ignoring the growing ache in his legs – he had to make up for all the lost time. By now he was perspiring madly, and he could feel the sticky sensation of sweat on his back and on his forehead. He ignored everything, however, and kept his determination intact: just one swift flash of memory of the Hands, and he was propelled forward in his struggle.

Losing count of how many steps he'd climbed in total, he could surmise that he shouldn't even dare look downwards, no matter how much he wanted to check the clock and see how much time had passed. If he turned to look, he'd probably become nauseous or crippled by fear, and lose his determination – damn the demon for placing the clock in the one place that Raito didn't want to look: down!

It was the same problem with the fact that the demon was situated on the ladder directly behind Raito, and if Raito wanted to check the status of his opponent, he'd have to look downwards and backwards – a motion that was simply neither manageable nor advisable at this height.

He could only hope that his climbing pace was faster than that of the demon and that he'd now surpassed the opponent – when he'd briefly seen the demon climbing before, he'd noticed the devil had kept a relatively slow pace. If Raito accelerated his effort even more, then-

Eager to move faster, he didn't pay attention to his steps. The moment he realized he was slipping, he couldn't help but release a blood-curdling howl. Thankfully, his reflexes were fast enough to respond to the danger, and he grabbed the edges – not the steps – of the ladder immediately. The friction on his palms was horrible as he slid a few feet downwards, but he eventually managed to settle his feet on the ladder again and steady himself.

He held still only for a few moments to catch his breath. However the moment he stopped moving, he saw a puppet from one of the selves nearby float out of its sitting position and hover upwards, coming to rest directly over Raito. This puppet was easily recognizable before it even transformed, but that didn't stop Raito from watching the transformation with an amazed face.

"Takada…" he released a breathy mutter, and watched her as she appeared sitting on the steps of the ladder above him, with her short hair and haughty look. She nodded her head slightly, barely lowering her snobbishly raised nose.

It was amazing how her arrogant face amused him, even now. She really did believe that she was a femme fatale, if such a thing even existed. For Raito, it surely did not – no woman was ever good enough to be fatal, and certainly not this one. After he'd re-evaluated all the actions of his past life, he felt a bit guilty for frying her alive when she'd technically been innocent. However…she had been a liability, and…

It was a fact that it would be harder to manipulate this woman than it had been with Penber, since she was generally much more demanding. However, despite appearances, Raito knew that Takeda's weakness was not – like with Misa – her love for Yagami Raito.

It was her love for fame, and her ambition.

Oh this was just too easy.

"Takada," he started immediately, putting on his most charming, romance-stricken face, the one he'd used to convince her that he was the man of her dreams. "I was thinking about you all this time. I couldn't get you out of my mind."

"Mm…" she didn't look very convinced, but it seemed as though she was enjoying the lavishing of attention nonetheless.

"All this time I've been thinking" Raito started, shaking his head to pretend he was feeing dejected "about all the dreams we'd made…" he let the statement hang unfinished, internally congratulating himself for being such a capable actor. "Was everything between us just a lie to you?" Actually, he almost started guffawing at his own dejected expression.

"…No…I thought everything was a lie to _you_." She answered with a mildly stiff expression, indication that her pride had been hurt by him.

Thankfully, this marionette-Takada didn't seem to have any recollection of the way Raito had eventually killed her. She blinked her red eyes, not very compliant or responsive to his wooing. Raito realized that, perhaps he should try a different approach in order to manipulate her quickly. Was he being excessive with the lovey-dovey words? Perhaps he should withhold the romance and focus on feeding her egoism instead.

"Of course not!" he said loudly, and with heavy inflection "How could it? You're the most strong-willed, decisive, and capable woman I've ever known" he continued, remembering the unfortunate few times that he'd been obliged to sleep with her, for reasons of credibility. He keenly remembered, with an inner dark spark, that no matter how much she wanted to keep a strong, 'powerful' woman profile on the outside, in the end she'd always melt like putty in his arms. Entirely pathetic…woman are such weak-willed creatures, especially when it comes to men, he thought in mild disgust.

"From the moment I met you…I always knew that I wanted a woman like you by my side…You're the only one who can understand my cause…" He enforced his voice with the characteristic melodramatic baritone that had always appealed to women of her kind.

His disgust only intensified as he saw her expression softening at the onslaught of compliments. Just a few honey-covered words and she was already getting weak at the knees! All he had to do with women is just make them believe that a smart, good-looking man like Raito was in desperate need of them, and they were flattered enough to do anything! Most of them had such pathetic self-confidences anyway, so if was extremely easy to convince them they were special and needed. Now she only needed a little nudge toward the right direction, and…

"Your…cause?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows slightly "What cause?"

"I need your help." He concluded, with a tremendously serious voice "You're the only one logical enough to understand what I have to do…I trust you not to tell anyone this secret…"

"What is it?" she asked, her interest obviously piqued.

He decided that, in order to convince her, he'd eventually have to mention Kira. He could only hope that she at least remembered the existence of Kira. In order to avoid any uncomfortable or lengthy conversations – he had a race to win, after all – he resolved not to reveal his identity.

"I know you support Kira." He said, in one quick and solid statement. He watched her eyes grow to the size of saucers in surprise. "And I support him too. So I thought that someone should try to raise his popularity with the public…" he said, seeing that her interest was focused on him "And then I knew I had to contact you immediately, a famous reporter…I trust you…" he repeated, in a more emotional tone.

See blinked, narrowing her eyes at him "How do you know I support Kira?" she asked, and he internally groaned. If only he could end this conversation quickly and continue climbing. The deafening ticking sound of the clock was becoming more and more frantic in his ears with every passing moment. Nevertheless, he kept his calm and continued talking to her, deciding to conjure some lies to bring the denouement of this conversation closer.

"Because I saw you in a festival for Kira supporters." He stated, solidly. Naturally, no such thing had happened. He could only hope that the marionette-woman would bypass and accept the-.

"Lie." She said slowly, and Raito stopped breathing, watching her.

"You cheat!"

She barked suddenly, shooting upwards in a standing position, with her hands crossed over her chest. Her voice suddenly seemed amplified by a legion of other, monstrous voices. The sound of the ticking clock stopped, and Raito cursed himself a hundred times over, in his mind. Why couldn't he have thought more carefully?! However, as he saw her eyes flashing ruby and her face becoming horribly deformed; he completely forgot how to think, becoming paralyzed by fear.

Within seconds, the wooden steps of the ladder that he was holding started becoming warmer and warmer beneath his palms. Startled, he looked at his hands and the ladder, only to realize belatedly that it was not wooden anymore, but completely metal. And it was heating up more and more with every passing second. Until finally, the metal under his fingers started scorching with an orange colour, to the extent that he was forced to reflexively let go.

"NOOO!!" he shouted helplessly, as he lost his grip on the ladder and started falling downwards. The last thing he saw as he fell was Takada's glaring face. For a moment, as he was spiraling downwards, he thought he might be dropped to a hundred thousand angry Hands…he thought he saw red handprints everywhere.

Then he hit the ground, and all he knew was blackness.

-

The next time he opened his eyes, his head immediately started pounding, as though he'd just had the worst hangover of his entire life. Groaning, he sat up, only to come face to face with a library – a tower – filled to the brim with dolls, stretching as far upwards as the eye could see.

Immediately, he remembered what had happened – how he had failed the contest and fallen - and he twisted around wildly, searching for his opponent, the demon.

He wasn't disappointed. Only a few feet away, leaning against the ladder on the right side of the room, the demon stood inspecting his nails. When Raito looked at him, the devil made a show of noticing Raito was awake.

"Oh, you've come back to it, have you?" the demon who had borrowed Raito's face said, as he narrowed his eyes in cruel, sadistic mirth. "It's nice to see you so rejuvenated." He mocked, probably knowing perfectly well that Raito felt like the complete opposite. In fact, the tiredness of before hadn't gone away – it was as though he had just climbed two hundred wooden steps.

Raito lost no time in standing up, trying to shake the dizziness away. Then he stared at his opponent again, glaring but not saying anything. After all, he'd gone through much worse than this.

The demon snorted, as though having heard Raito's spiteful thoughts. He then kicked himself off the wall and ambled forward, standing in front of Raito's wary eyes, in the middle of a belfry full of watchful dolls.

"That's one lost try, Yagami Raito" the devil said, shaking his head and making disappointed noises "You have two more to go." He stated, raising his hand to indicate two fingers, in order to accentuate his point.

Raito didn't speak, just clenched his jaw. He still felt exhausted from before, and not at all prepared to try climbing again. He looked upwards, not able to discern how many steps he had to climb before he'd reach the top of the tower.

Was there even a point to all this?

"You have two hours to defeat me, and reach the top of the tower before me. This is your second attempt." The devil's voice rang and Raito was jarred back to the present. He realized that the demon was eager to restart the game as soon as possible, even though Raito was obviously exhausted.

Truth be told, he wasn't actually surprised at still being alive after having taken such a fall: he was surprised that he hadn't been thrown to the Hands. Obviously, after taking the demon's words into consideration, Raito had two more attempts at trying to win this little 'competition'. If he did not succeed…would he be thrown to the Hands then?

Raito steeled himself. No matter how tired his body may currently be, the thought of that extreme, unbelievable pain was enough to destroy any kind of doubt, or fatigue.

He approached the wooden ladder – now completely wooden and not at all comprised out of burning metal – and stood in front of it, internally cursing it. He didn't try to grab it before the demon gave the signal, lest he be called a cheater again. So he stood there patiently, as the ground started shaking beneath him and the gigantic clock appeared under his feet.

"Your time begins…now!" the demon shouted, and it was as though a gunshot sliced the air along with his rough voice.

Once again, Raito lost no time. He grabbed the edges of the ladder immediately, intent on climbing incessantly.

Judging on what had happened before; the puppets only slipped out of their shelves and came to block his way when he stopped ascending. In other words, the puppets would only become his obstacles when he'd stop climbing – even if he stopped for a second to catch a breath.

Therefore, what he had to do was obvious: not stop moving. He had to think of this as continuous aerobic exercise – like training or jogging. However, since he was a human who had weaknesses, it would be physically impossible to conduct such exercise without resting a few times. Therefore, he would be forced to pay attention to the puppets in the shelves, to see which people they represented.

If he spotted a person who could be easily persuaded or manipulated – like Penber – then Raito could afford to stop and catch a breath. But if he saw someone troublesome, who would need a long time to be convinced, like Takada, then he'd try to keep going and not stop.

Therefore, after he'd climbed the first one hundred steps or so, Raito spotted Penber's marionette in the shelves. Eager to rest a bit, he stopped moving, expecting to see Penber's doll float forward and come to stand on top of him.

However, he was doomed to be tragically disappointed.

Penber's doll didn't move a single bit; it was a doll a few shelves down, shaped like the infamous Misora Naomi, who came forward out of the dark recesses of the library. Raito gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands and yank at his hair. He should have realized that it wasn't necessary the same puppet would appear every time he stopped in the same vicinity!

And the problem that had now risen was that, even though Penber was relatively easy to manipulate…Misora was the exact opposite: suspicious, wary and quick-witted – one of the few women Raito considered an actual foe. Raito would have to spend a long time convincing her to move away.

Misora's doll then appeared over him, soon turning into the real woman, complete with red eyes, leather jacket and wraith-like black hair. Raito decided not to employ the same method he had used with Takada and to gather more information before he started trying to persuade her.

"Can I please pass, Miss…?" Raito spoke, knowing the answer would be negative but trying to make her acknowledge his presence. He tried to calm himself and not think at all about his opponent, or the passing time.

"I really think I should stay right here." Misora answered Raito's polite plea for her to move. "I'll wait to meet the chief of police in my own time."

Raito realized that these marionettes did not carry the same memories as the people they really represented: it was as though they remembered only bits and pieces of real life. Misora, for example, obviously believed she was in the police station, waiting to tell chief Yagami about the questionable death of her fiancé. Just as the Penber marionette had believed he was in the bus, with Raito, trying to prevent the hijacking.

Raito realized that he would have to repeat the entire conversation he'd had with Misora back then, in order to make her trust him. The only difference was that now he had no identification to show her. He'd have to convince her he was the chief's son all on his own.

"Then I'm sure I can help you. I came to the station to see chief Yagami as well." he said with fake joviality, and watched her interest focus on him "I'm the chief's son, Yagami Raito."

Misora's eyes seemed calculating as the weighed Raito up and down "Nice to meet you, I'm…"

Raito noticed that she used the same alias she had used when he'd met her in real life. However, he couldn't care less about her real name right now. All he wanted was to persuade her to move away and stop blocking him. He decided he should manipulate the fact that she believed she was in the police station, waiting to see chief Yagami – just as he had manipulated Penber's belief that he was in the bus. Even though Raito was very careful not to utter any kind of lie – lest he be called a 'cheater' again, he supposed that it would not be considered a lie if he used the right words.

"Since I'm son to the chief of police, I'm sure he'll see you in his office if I ask him." He said, nodding his head in affirmation. She looked at him very carefully, and then spoke again.

"I'm thankful for your help, but I'm sure I can wait for him on my own."

Yes… Raito had remembered her very well. Extremely stubborn and cautious woman…but a woman nonetheless, who could be moved by gentle words.

"Are you sure you don't need any help…you look like you're really cold…" he commented, wearing his 'charmingly polite' mask. Unfortunately, that tactic didn't seem to work on Misora, so he quickly amended his ways "I understand why you wouldn't trust a complete stranger, and unfortunately I'm not holding any ID…" he started, supposing that the best lie is a lie with fifty percent honesty "…but I can prove to you that I am the chief's son. Ask me something that only the inner police members would know…about an investigation, for example!"

"Investigation?" she echoed, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes. " he answered, hoping that the conversation would soon end "My father, who is working on several cases, tells me about them at home, even though he technically shouldn't…but he tells me because I help him with the investigation. I'm part of an inner group of people, who are involved in the case."

Well that wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. In any case, he wasn't trying to necessarily be overly careful, credible or serious with what he was saying, as long as it was enough to make her move aside.

Misora seemed interested enough to continue the conversation "Inner force?"

"Yes" Raito answered, aware that he'd have to stop talking to her soon if he wanted to win this race "If you'll just let me pass by, I'll go ask the receptionist to show you my ID, and prove to you my involvement in the case." After a small pause, he spoke again "You have nothing to lose…."

He waited for her to start shouting "liar!" and "cheater!" at him, but nothing of the sort actually happened.

"Very well…" Misora answered with wary, suspicious eyes, and stood up quietly. She moved away, and, in a whisk of air, she was a marionette again. Raito lost no time, starting to climb frantically to catch up with his opponent, who was definitely ahead of him by now.

As he climbed, he kept thinking: perhaps it was only considered a lie if it referred to the past of the marionette-person, not the future. When he'd lied to Takada before, he'd exploited the fact that he was talking to a marionette to assume she would have no memory of the real world…but he'd very wrong.

However, when he'd lied to both Penber and Misora, he hadn't been called a cheater, because he'd simply pretended to be located in the same place and time they were. With Takada, he hadn't sat to think exactly what to say, which was why he had failed.

As he climbed, in the midst of his tiredness, he spotted Takada's doll. Not realizing it, he started climbing faster in an effort to escape the possibility that he have to face it all over again. All the dolls around him…did they represent the people he'd met during his lifetime?

He climbed and climbed, the tenuous effort straining the muscles in all his limbs – and in some other places that he hadn't even realized he had had muscles. However, all the fatigue in the world slipped away when he remembered the Hands, and the kind of pain that was in store for him if he didn't manage to win this preposterous race.

He kept looking upwards, checking the dolls around and realizing that he couldn't recognize half of them. Suddenly, he saw a puppet with white hair and white clothes. Again, unconsciously, he strained himself to climb faster despite his overtiredness. He wasn't yet crazy enough to risk being interrogated by Near's doll.

Until finally, finally, when he must have climbed, in total, more than five hundred steps vertically from the ground, he looked upwards and saw a small, sparkling sliver of whiteness, not only rows and endless rows of shelves.

He was reaching the top!

Gaining newfound conviction, and now reassured that, since he hadn't stopped more than once in his whole effort, he must have surely beaten the demon, he strained himself for once last time, fighting to keep moving.

It hurt…it hurt like hell itself. But it was nothing compared to what would happen to him if he failed. That's what he kept repeating in his mind, and he took the courage he needed to continue.

Finally, he reached the last hundred steps. He could now actually see the roof of the tower: a great, white dome-like surface. He didn't know what he would do once he'd manage to reach the top, but he got dizzy even thinking about climbing all these steps back down. Suddenly, however, unable to help it anymore, he felt his legs weakening, unable to take the strain any longer, no matter how he urged them.

It was completely involuntary, but he had no choice.

It was humanly and physically impossible…at some point, no matter how much he motivated himself for the contrary…his feet paused, freezing on their own volition. He pushed and pushed for them to move, but they wouldn't obey him, seizing their need to rest.

'_Oh no'_ his brain thought in a growing panic, just as he released an extremely relieved sigh. Even though his body loved the fact that he'd stopped moving, his brain hated it. He heaved a shaky breath, aware that there would be a puppet dispatched over him very soon. He didn't know which puppet, however, and could only hope it would be an easy one. Letting himself sigh deeply to prepare himself, he finally turned to look upwards.

'_FUCK!!' _a voice in his brain immediately shouted as he recognized the puppet that was floating overhead. Wonderful. This was exactly what he _didn't _need when he was in a hurry: the only person in the entire world that it was simply impossible for Raito to manipulate.

"Ryuuzaki."

And he thought Near was bad. Now he spat the name as though it was a vile abomination, a curse. He turned his eyes away as he watched the porcelain face and small hands of the puppet morph into the complex bone structure and long limbs of a grown human male. He didn't need to see the transformation take place in front of his eyes, when he was already panicking about what he would be forced to compete against.

'_I'm going to lose, I'm going to lose, I'm going to have to climb all over again_' Raito started thinking, and tears of frustration were almost jerked from his eyes, as he saw the creature in front of him open its red eyes.

Raito clenched his jaw, however. Doubt never did anyone much good – that much he'd learned. Stopping the fatalistic thoughts that had gripped his mind, he started trying to think quickly on a different trail: how to make L move, in the least possible amount of time.

The objective was to manipulate Ryuuzaki…not to convince or prove his innocence to Ryuuzaki. The objective was to distract him, divert his attention enough to let Raito pass. And Raito had to find a way to do it…quickly. There was just one problem…Raito had no idea what Ryuuzaki's weakness was…_if_ there were any.

But Raito did know one thing: the first and most basic rule about trying to convince Ryuuzaki to do _anything._ Never let Ryuuzaki realize that you want to do something badly, or else he'll never let you do it unless he knows why you want it. Raito had to find a legitimate reason about why he would really want to move forward and make Ryuuzaki move…but under no circumstances should he make himself look suspiciously desperate, or L would start interrogating him mercilessly.

"Raito-kun." The voice rung again, and it almost made Raito's skin crawl by the sheer familiarity of it. He did _not_ want to look at a demonic Ryuuzaki's face while Raito was as frustrated, exhausted, and utterly filthy as he currently was.

'Think!' Raito internally berated himself. He was the person who'd spent so much time with Ryuuzaki! If there was anyone who could fathom a way to distract the other…Raito was the only one who could possibly fathom it.

He stared at Ryuuzaki carefully. There was no way to tell which scene out of Raito's real life this was representing, as there had been with Penber and Misora. With Ryuuzaki, it was impossible to say: he'd seen L so many times in his real life that he couldn't understand at first glance what information about Kira Ryuuzaki already knew. It was probably best not to say anything about the Kira case to L, because talking about Kira would be a surefire way to keep Ryuuzaki's interest sparked. And what Raito wanted was the exact opposite: to dismiss L's interest, to make the detective focus on something completely other than Raito, and-

"You seem quiet, Raito-kun. Something the matter?" Ryuuzaki's voice rung again, completely calm and toneless. Raito turned his eyes upwards, staring at L's blank face and red eyes. No blackness, no spark of thought…nothing. Just a demon.

As they stared at each other – more of a glare in Raito's case – Raito involuntarily focused on something: Ryuuzaki's sitting arrangement. Not that it was anything new, of course…but Raito suddenly remembered something Ryuuzaki had said to him long ago: Ryuuzaki's mental capacity dropped forty percent if he didn't sit in that position…Raito also remembered that he had experienced problems when in Ryuuzaki's body.

It was impossible to make Ryuuzaki sit differently under the circumstances – the man was as thick-headed as a mule, and he new his shortcomings very well so he would never stop sitting with his knees curled. Even so…this was a weakness that could be exploited. What other such physical-originated particularities about Ryuuzaki did Raito know?

Countless…biting of nails, watching computers, eating swe-

Eating sweets! Perhaps it was simplistic enough to work, Raito thought, as he carefully stared at L's still face. Now all he needed was a reliable reason for wanting Ryuuzaki to move…but he had that already.

"Ryuuzaki…" he started, trying to keep his tone of voice completely plausible. First he had to understand if this 'scene' was taking place during the period L and Raito had been handcuffed. "I need to go to the bathroom…" Thankfully, no one could call him a cheater, since this white lie could be said under any circumstances. But, hopefully, Ryuuzaki's response would help show Raito if this scene was taking place in the HQ building or not.

"You just went a few minutes ago, Raito-kun…" L answered without batting an eyelash.

Bingo! If L was saying things like this, then it implied Raito and Ryuuzaki lived together long enough for Ryuuzaki to know when Raito went to the bathroom. This, in turn, implied that the scene was taking place during the 'handcuffed' period of Raito's life.

Raito thought carefully about his next answer. Obviously, the demon assumed that this was the period with the handcuffs, when L and Raito had been staying in the Headquarters. So Raito moved his hands a bit, shuffling on the ladder as he spoke. "I know…but I really need to go again after all…something about lunch got to me, probably…"

"Can't it wait, Raito-kun? This project needs our complete attention…"

Raito let Ryuuzaki finish his sentence, knowing that L hated to be interrupted when he spoke – L liked the sound of his own voice too much for his own good. Overall, Ryuuzaki didn't seem to budge by Raito's words. Finally, feeling the irony of the entire thing, Raito dived for the finishing hit – the hit below the belt. He could only hope that this was rash enough to work.

"My bad, but I really need to go…Besides, we'll pass by the kitchen too…maybe pick up some strawberry shortcake?" a small pause Raito asked, straining to remember the sweets that were almost always in the Headquarters, so that he wouldn't be called a 'liar'. Also, he was extremely cautious not to make himself sound too eager, lest Ryuuzaki immediately suspect something. He spoke slowly, but not too slowly. Indifferently, but not too indifferently

He waited patiently. Nothing seemed to change in Ryuuzaki's expression and Raito realized that his scheme wasn't working. Ryuuzaki wasn't responsive enou-

"…I see." The detective's voice echoed, and Raito froze. "Well in that case we can spare a few moments…" and just like that, Ryuuzaki's long thighs unfolded and he stood up, stepping away from the ladder, his face still a complete mask of expressionless lethargy. Raito watched the man transform back into a motionless puppet and recede back to the shelves.

Raito was left with his jaw open.

It took a few seconds for him to remember he had to continue climbing, with his muscles screaming in protest all over again. He internally conducted the dance of victory, unable to believe that the person who was theoretically the most difficult to bypass turned out to be one of the painless ones. Unbelievable.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Raito had lived with L for a long time – long enough to understand that, even though he was extremely stubborn in matters of work, he was also human. And like all humans, he too had some… minor inconsistencies.

Raito climbed persistently, letting his hands clench on the wooden ladder. There was a small, fleeing sense of humour after his last discussion with L. Raito shook his head in exasperation as he thought that the way to manipulate the world's Greatest Detective, despite appearances, was neither to defeat him in chess, nor to outsmart him about Kira – these things would only aggravate him. Whereas if someone offered him shortcake…things seemed to change.

However, this small smug grin on his face evaporated, as he reached the last twenty steps, at which point he almost started crying from desperation. He was so close that he could feel his blood sing. It was unbelievable. Raito pushed himself harder and harder, drunk with the idea of victory, eager to relieve himself at last.

Finally, he touched the last step.

But no sooner did he lay his fingers on it that he saw something from the side, a small shape, float forward.

Belatedly, he realized that he had forgotten to pay attention to the marionettes around him, and he hadn't been careful enough. However, it was inevitable that he'd stop moving when he reached the top of the stairs and had nowhere to go. Stopping was just…inevitable, at this point! This was plain cheating!

Raito simply contented himself with the fact that the demon must be very far behind him, and that he'd managed to gain a substantial advantage, since his last conversation with Ryuuzaki had been relatively short and uneventful. Now he simply had to manipulate this last marionette, whatever it was, and persuade it to move out of his way, and he'd win the race. The exhilaration was almost too much to bear.

Raito waited patiently, to see which lucky puppet would come and talk to him. He didn't dare twist around in his position, lest he look downwards. Because he knew, by the distant vagueness of the ticking sounds, that if he now turned to look at the clock-like floor from this height, the huge clock would have the size of a wrist watch. And if he actually saw it, he was – in Ryuuzaki's wording – more than seventy-four percent sure that he would faint and fall.

His attention was diverted when he saw the puppet moving overhead. When he actually managed to take a look at it, he was so startled that he almost yelped. He restrained himself, however, because if he did he would lose his balance, and his muscles wouldn't be able to take the strain.

"_Misa..."_

The puppet materialized above him, and indeed, there she was, finally. In her long, lacy black gown, adorned by diamond earrings and a silver tiara shining on the golden crown of her head. And despite her inferior height, she now looked more regal and tall than Raito had ever known her to be. But her expression, was different from the one Raito had always remembered – there was now no playful, mischievous spin in those crooked lips – only a clownish, frozen smile.

But he had to admit that the way that her cherry red lips were stuck in a permanent smile was more that a little…inappropriate. It made him feel wary of his words. It felt as though she were mocking him. Even so, it was amazing that her eyes were not at all red or demonic, like those of the other satanic marionettes: her eyes still retained the sparkling baby blue colour that Raito had always remembered.

Raito was amazed by this development: he couldn't seriously be expected to view manipulating her as a challenge, could he? Unbelievable. The last puppet was the easiest of all.

Which was worrying in itself. There was always a secret clause, with these things, and nothing was ever as easy as it looked at first glance. Perhaps he should be worried that something like this happened…what was the catch?

"Misa" he started again, looking at her stubborn, constant smile. She didn't show any sign of response. Somehow, the hairs on the back of Raito's neck stood on end.

"Misa…listen to me." He repeated, just for good measure, and employed the most alluring stare he could manage, under the circumstances "If you love me, then …please…move aside."

But she didn't look at all moved, still just staring stubbornly at him.

He watched her as she turned her eyes toward his hands, then back toward his face, as though assessing him. Finally, he decided that he should try a different route.

"Misa…move aside…or else I'll fall and die. And you don't want that, do you?"

As he looked at that expression, that smile that seemed almost as though it had been painted there, it reminded him of something. It wasn't exactly a happy expression…or even a tortured one. It was a face of pure, muted desperation.

Raito had seen it once more, he thought, that clownish joker smile. He'd seen it on his father's face, when he'd realized he had no choice but to rape his own daughter.

Misa made a sudden movement forward, and for a split second, Raito thought she'd attack him, or pry his hands away from the ladder, or curse him for never having loved her. He thought she'd shout that he was lying, that there was no love, that there was nothing.

However, no sooner had he thought anything of the sort than he felt her hand, small and delicate, grab his wrist and pull upwards, hoisting him.

Bells of simultaneous panicked alarm and blind glee started singing in Raito's brain as he felt some kind of rough wind envelop his body. As he held the Misa-marionette's hand, he came closer and closer to the white ceiling of the dome above him – she was hoisting him up! As his body was ushered upwards, he inevitably looked downward and realized just how far from the ground he was. Holding on to the demonized puppet for dear life, and not understanding why this was happening, he felt his shoe touch the white dome above him.

The moment that his leg came in contact with the plaster of the ceiling, he felt a pleasant sensation, as though he was sinking his limbs in seawater. And just as he was watching his foot, he saw it actually sinking in the white ceiling, as though the dome was made out of some kind of liquid substance, which was sucking Raito upwards.

However, before Raito could manage to sink his other foot and stabilize himself, he heard some sudden horrible breaking sound and immediately looked down, alarmed.

He gasped as he saw Misa with a thin, horrible crack slicing over her face. As though the woman's skin was made of porcelain – as though she were a human puppet. Raito's panic and fear amalgamated as he saw the one side of her porcelain face literally peeling off. He realized that his weight had obviously been too heavy for her to support. Immediately, he let go of her hand, now letting both his legs sink in the white surface of the ceiling above him.

However, it was too late. The moment he let go of her hand, it broke with a horrible cracking sound. "Misa!" he shouted, unable to help himself, as he saw her – a human made out of fragile porcelain, collapse downwards. In the meantime, the white surface of the ceiling was sucking him in like quicksand, and he could do nothing to stop it, as he was now buried in it from the waist downwards.

The last sight he caught of Misa was a bewildered face as it fell downwards. Raito didn't manage to see it hit the ground and break into a million pieces, since he had sunk in the white quicksand by then.

As his eyes became filled with white light, the last thing he saw was the Raito-shaped demon, which was climbing the ladder on the right side of the tower capriciously, without even shedding a glance at the falling woman, who didn't even scream as she spiraled down.

-

He gasped, feeling as though his entire body was strung as tight as a violin chord. Sitting up immediately, and feeling every single part of his body hurt, he brought his hand over his gasping mouth. His eyes were wide and hoarse, his breath coming in shallow, ragged wheezes.

What had just happened?

Misa had just…and the race…? Had he won? And the Hands…? He'd been sucked through the ceiling..!? What was going on? Where was he now?

He tried to shake the image of her desperate eyes, those eyes filled to the brim with need, from his mind. There was nothing he could have done, he reminded himself. She wasn't even a real human, anyway. And it wasn't his fault if she'd wanted to…

_Idiot_, he thought, with a frown. _…except her, who would sacrifice their own lifespan for someone who doesn't love them?_

But somehow, even in his own mind, the thought felt cheap.

Trying to ignore the knot in his throat, Raito inspected the new environment and froze in barely restrained anxiety. It looked as though he was located in the center of a room…room…

He'd seen this horrible place before. No windows, no doors…The last time he'd seen it there had been a table with a clock inside it. Just by being in here again, he almost felt the terror building up all over again – it was a place too closely associated with the Hands. At some point, he thought he'd lost the competition of manipulation and that he was back to being interrogated by a demon-Ryuuzaki. But when he finally got his act together long enough to see what was around him, he started calming down a bit.

There was no table. There was no clock…there was no overhead light bulb. Everything was fine…he wasn't going to relive the interrogation…

Now there were only four mirrors, one on each wall.

Obviously, since there was no exit or other significant object, Raito would have to do something with these mirrors – this much was clear. However, he didn't know to what extent he was ready to even walk after what he'd just been through, let alone keep exploring. However, he quickly remembered that the demon had warned him…what if Raito had not won the race after all? What if this was just another part of the competition…what if-?

Perhaps one of these mirrors would give him the answers.

So he walked to the closest mirror, on the left side of the room. Careful not to touch the glass surface or the ornate brass edges, Raito slowly leaned forwards, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at his reflection. Everything seemed completely normal at first, which was perhaps the most worrying thing of all. But just he was focused looking at himself, the image in front of him started swirling, changing colours. Alarmed, he took a step backwards and immediately the swirling colours stabilized again. Now he could only see his reflection.

But Raito had already fallen victim to the universal rule of morbid curiosity, so he approached the mirror once more. He tried to reason with himself that there was nothing else he could do anyway: obviously, his discoveries would have to be associated with these mirrors. So he moved towards the glass surface again, this time staying firmly in place as he saw his reflection changing and the colours swirling.

Before he knew it, the image in front of him looked completely different from before – it was like a window, not a mirror. Feeling as though he were watching television, Raito leaned forward, squinting to discern the shadowy shapes of the image.

He saw some human-shaped shadows, and then, suddenly, heard screams coming from the mirror in front of him. His blood chilled at the familiar hue of those hoarse cries and he squinted, moving his head a bit, in order to see more clearly.

"Ahh!!"

"Fa…ther!!"

Raito froze as he witnessed the scene. There was Souichirou, with a completely tortured expression, bent over Sayu's writhing body. And a few feet away, a bleeding Raito was gurgling on the floor, unable to stop it from happening.

As a reflex, Raito immediately moved backwards, pushing himself away from the horrible sight. The moment he moved away, the image in the mirror swirled again in a whirlpool of colour, and Raito's reflection appeared again. As though nothing had ever happened.

Raito just stood there, looking at his own blanched face with unblinking eyes. He didn't really know which was worse: the fact that he'd seen it happen all over again – like a nightmare he'd been trying to forget – or that he'd just seen how pathetic he'd truly looked as he'd shouted for his father to stop.

Raito shook his head hoarsely to escape his trance, looking at the mirror as though it was a spawn of hell. And then, he looked around the room. There were three more mirrors in here. Did he have to check all three of them? He had a very bad premonition about what he would see behind them.

However, he reminded himself he had no choice. He moved toward the second mirror. After he spent a few moments looking at his reflection, the colours started changing again, and the image in the mirror became distorted. Immediately, new screams welcomed Raito's ears. This time they were much deeper and hoarser than before – they didn't belong to a female.

Realizing what he was witnessing, on the one hand he didn't wish to see the horrible sight, but on the other there was a kind of masochistic curiosity to observe the scene from a third-person point of view.

Predictably, he saw himself screaming – the most pathetic sight Raito had ever seen in his entire life, even more pathetic that Sayu. And above him, monstrous, Sai was grinning. Disgusting, vile creature. He was _smiling_ at Raito's obvious pai-

Raito pulled back, fighting to breathe clearly. Not allowing himself to think anything except for the fact that he had two more mirrors to go, he moved toward the third one. When he reached it, he already knew what he'd see behind it.

And yet he didn't shy away – he looked carefully.

Truth be told, he wanted to see Ryuuzaki's face and ascertain what kind of expression Ryuuzaki had had whilst he'd seen Raito raping the girl.

So Raito leaned toward the mirror, soon entering a world of screams. It was Sayu's high-pitched voice again, and Raito looked at himself. He admitted, with pure disgust, that his face was neither as pained as Souichirou's nor as sadistic as Sai's: it was something in between. The only difference with Sai was that Raito's actions had carried a sense of frantic desperation, whereas Sai had taken his time, with fluid motions.

Raito's eyes fell on Ryuuzaki. Ryuuzaki, who was sitting on the floor cradling his fractured ribs. His face, unbelievably, was etched in an expression of disbelief – mild surprise – and his eyes were fixed on Raito expression. Raito felt the shame overcome him, for no particular reason, as he realized that Ryuuzaki – even in a hallucination – had actually seen him make such a perverted expression.

Raito pulled back from the mirror, staggering a bit. He turned around and closed his eyes, knowing that the image would disappear very quickly – a nightmare, a hallucination that had never happened. And yet, he'd experienced these things so intensely that it seemed absolutely cruel to realize that they were just lies…just…nightmares. These nightmares had changed everything. Can a dream…do that?

Misa had provoked this, Raito thought. It had been her puppets that had been following him all along. There must be some kind of statement, some kind of hidden symbol that he was missing. There must be an answer to this ongoing, extremely long riddle, just as there had been a way to escape the Hands and a way to beat the demon in the interrogation.

Now seeing all his nightmarish memories of rapes collected in one space, Raito realized that, obviously, these nightmares were small parts of a bigger, greater, overall riddle. The riddle that had started with the marionettes.

Only one mirror left now, and he didn't know what he would see behind this one. His course had now become quite clear, if it wasn't already: he had to follow the clues that had been left for him, and decipher the hidden messages. And seeing the image through this last mirror was the last step. He walked steadily, with a fabricated subterfuge of calmness, which was designed to conceal an ocean of tumultuous emotions.

Approaching the fourth, and final, mirror, he leaned toward it carefully. He could feel the eyes of at least a hundred marionettes bore in the back of his head, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the swirling images in front of his eyes. What would the mirror show him now?

And then, the image stabilized, and Raito finally got a good look at what he was being shown. Basically, the only thing he could see was an empty room, which he recognized immediately: it was his old room – the room in his parents' old house, with his old bed and old desk; the room where he'd first met Ryuuku and where everything had started.

He squinted as he tried to discern the details in the image. He could barely see that the digital clock on his desk was indicating that it was six o'clock. And seeing as the image was dark, Raito supposed that it was six o'clock in the evening, not the morning.

And then, suddenly, something changed in the picture. The door to his room opened and in walked two people: Raito immediately recognized himself, and, of course, Misa, in her gothic outfit and platinum hair. Then, after the door was closed, two specters came in the room through the walls: Ryuuku and Reemu.

Ryuuku, Raito thought with hatred, but steeled himself as he watched. Then, suddenly, he heard his own voice speak:

'_I've told you so many times not to come here. Don't you know how dangerous it is? What if someone saw you?'_ the Raito in the image said with barely restrained fury, looking at Misa as though she was a vile bug stuck on the edge of his shoe.

'_Misa knows this already!' _Misa answered, as always using the third person to refer to herself _'But Misa wanted to see Raito so much, she thought she'd die if she didn't come!!'_

The Raito in the mirror seemed utterly aggravated _'If you're not careful enough, then they'll arrest me. And then you'll never see me again!'_

Misa was absolutely distressed, and Reemu seemed perturbed at her anxiousness '_Waaaaa! No way! Misa doesn't want that!!'_

'_But it will happen.' _Raito insisted, taking Misa's shoulders in his hands. As always, Misa seemed to melt the moment she felt his touch. Her features softened, and she smiled. '_That's why we have to be so careful…Right?' _He smiled back at her, with his most charming smile.

Raito, who was observing the scene, realized that this must be a scene from his real life. It seemed to have been drawn directly from his past.

But this scene did not include any rapes…why was he watching it in this mirror?

As he watched Misa's love struck face, he was tempted to think, once again, that Misa had always been stupid and easy to manipulate. However, just as he was lost in his thoughts, he was startled by something in the image. The Raito in the mirror, who Misa was looking at with such reverence, suddenly started…glowing.

Raito, who was watching the mirror, narrowed his eyes immediately, unable to believe what he was seeing. The Raito in the image had literally started shining, as though every inch of his skin exhibited a warm ethereal glow. The light looked rather…attractive, not to mention strange. It flattered Raito's face.

But Raito was confused about why he was seeing this. He had never really glowed like that in reality…what the deuce was going on?

'_That's why you must do exactly as I tell you. You promised me, remember?'_ Raito asked Misa, and his voice sounded…melodious. As though some kind of…heavenly creature was speaking. _'You must help me get rid of L…L must die. Only then will we be able to create a New World, a beautiful place without crime where we'll be able to live happily." _Somehow, the angelic voice did not coincide with the words.

Raito watched the image more closely, realizing that he was obviously missing something here. And then he noticed that, as the Raito on screen was holding Misa's shoulders, the girl looked positively…enchanted. As though, in her eyes, she could also see this…glow. Could she see it too?

So, in her eyes…Raito was glowing? What on earth…?

And then Raito took a step closer to her, looking at her with all the smug charm and extreme self-confidence necessary to woo a female. Seeing Raito's glowing face approach her with such an expression, the woman looked positively ready to faint.

'_Yes…yes, Raito! I...I understand!' _the girl said loudly, obviously unable to help herself anymore, as she flung her arms across Raito's shoulders. Seeing her embrace him, Raito reciprocated, albeit with a completely satanic grin on his face, which she couldn't see. The expression seemed unfitting of the ethereal glow that surrounded his body.

Raito's blood chilled as he carefully observed that grin…it was exactly like the grin he'd seen on Sai's face, while Sai had been…

As Raito watched the mirror, he noticed the Shinigami looking at Misa and Raito as they embraced. Ryuuku had his usual smile on his face, looking extremely interested in the proceedings. But Reemu…Reemu…of course, Reemu, who'd fallen in love with Misa, was upset upon seeing Raito manipulate and take advantage of the girl.

Manipulate…

'_Manipulate.' _

Like a puppet.

He was now frozen in place, feeling dread overcome every fibre of his being. The image swirled and the scene was extinguished from Raito's vision. It seemed strange to look at his clear reflection again, especially when he'd been watching the scene so intensely before.

Rape.

Rape.

The act of harassing one's body…or…something worse? But manipulation is not the same as rape…rape involves violence and forcing someone to do something they don't want to do. Manipulation is different: it's about convincing the other person that they _want_ to do something and then using their weaknesses to one's advantage.

Sai had raped Raito…and even though Raito was still standing now, even if it hadn't been real…it now felt as though some part of him had been permanently robbed… his pride. Raito had been raped not just because someone had…had… It was primarily his inside that was humiliated: he _felt_ raped in his very being. What the hell was happening?

Raito bent his head forward, closing his eyes and letting the balls of his hands knead the edges of the mirror in front of him. Then, after a few seconds, he started laughing. It started with a small chuckle at first, rumbling from the depths of his insides. And then it grew louder, and louder, and louder…until it became an ugly mask over his face. His shoulders shook as he started guffawing, and his torso was doubling over. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he fisted his hands, hitting the brass edges of the mirror violently.

Well at least, he had solved this riddle of the marionettes.

He had…solved it.

He should have known all along, from the moment he saw her puppets. He should have understood at once, upon seeing the clock that was always trying, but failing, to reach six o'clock…he should have seen it in the marionette's livid smile, in the vengeful, rabid red eyes.

Revenge.

And finally, he should have seen it in the way that even as a marionette, in a world comprised of evil, he'd manipulated her and she'd been gullible and weak enough to let him. He'd used her 'love' – regardless of how stupid he thought it was – against her. He'd taken advantage of the way he'd always been 'glowing' in Misa's eyes, and, he'd manipulated this need of hers. And he'd robbed her of her pride.

But she had never had any! And that's what angered him the most: why was it his fault if she'd been stupid all along?! It wasn't his fault if she loved him and he didn't love her. He didn't possess the ability to stop her from loving him, not the ability to force himself to love her! Why was she avenging him…for having manipulated her? Or for never having loved her?

Slowly, he started calming down. His breath was coming in rough pants now, as the smile on his face started transforming, the edges of his mouth twisting downwards and his facial muscles contracting, as though pulled downwards by some alien force. There was a thick knot in his throat, and he suddenly found that he couldn't speak, swallow or even breathe clearly.

And if that wasn't enough, there was something heavy in his chest, as though his heart was being dragged down by some invisible, iron cannonball. He'd never experienced this feeling in his life. Even though nothing physical was being done to him, it felt as though his entire body was in pain – as though his very blood was in pain!

How ironic, but now, after seeing everything, he understood what the demonic place was trying to show him. He'd thought he'd raped Sayu in a hallucination when, in fact, he'd raped Misa all along, in the real world.

"_Misa…"_ he said in little more than a whisper, and his voice was carried in the air like a whisk of snowflakes.

First she'd killed others for Raito…then she'd been forced to kill herself by doing the eyeball trade for Raito…but wait! No one had forced her! She'd been weak-willed all along…! She'd never been discontent to do these things, and she'd never been violated: the very beauty of manipulation was that it never made anyone feel violated.

And even though he still thought that the problem had been her open weakness and willingness to trust…he didn't know if he was even more disgusted by his own preparedness to exploit her stupidity.

'_Just like Sai'_

He remembered his face as he'd been hugging her and asking her to do his bidding: it was undeniable. He couldn't refuse it any longer. When he'd been talking to Misa his face had looked exactly as Sai's filthy face had looked when he'd been raping Raito: just plain malicious. Not at all idealistic.

Raito allowed his shoulders to shake as he wrapped his hands over his chest. Was he remorseful…? No. Why would he be? He didn't believe it was his fault, and it didn't feel as though he'd raped her…he had never caused her harm. On the contrary, in the end, Misa had had everything she'd wanted: she'd been Raito's girlfriend, Raito's woman, and Kira's trusted devotee. She hadn't even realized…that she was being manipulated.

Everything he'd done he'd done for the New World. But still, that didn't alleviate the fact that his face had looked as malicious as any criminal's at that time, and he could not deny it. Misa might have been stupid and weak…but what about him? Even worse than Misa, since he'd been smarter than her and, instead of manipulating her harmlessly. He caused her to make sacrifices for him.

But even so…even though he now understood what the marionette's had been trying to show him – the concept of 'manipulation' – he still could not accept that what he'd done to Misa was pure rape. True, he'd manipulated her…and in the three rapes he had experienced, there was always someone being manipulated. Even Sai, the criminal, who'd been controlled by his malice.

But what kind of universe-?

Suddenly, he heard a sound, like the hollow creak of a wooden door, even though there was no door in the close vicinity. He opened his eyes again, trying to stop squeezing them, and the first thing he saw in front of him was the mirror he'd just been looking at. But instead of seeing his reflection, he saw that the glass surface had turned to stone. Those memories, that rape…he would never see it again. Bu still, even though they weren't real…

He turned around slowly. A part of him knew what he would see. He could feel it from the demonic shift in the air.

"Congratulations" the demon shaped like Raito, with red piercing eyes said. He was grinning. Grinning at Raito's obvious distress. Grinning at the fact that he knew…he knew everything. "You've won the competition at the second try! You're very good at manipulation."

But Raito didn't speak, just kept looking at the other's feet. For the first time in his turbulent existence, he wondered whether or not the talent to manipulate people was more of a curse or a gift. Until finally, he saw the other raise his hand, holding something. Raito looked upwards, distracted by the movement, and could not help himself from gasping.

The demon had fisted his hand in a batch of blonde hair, and he was holding a small, broken marionette, with baby blue eyes and an insistent smile.

"Oh yes" the demon started "I found this on the way up." He waved the small puppet around by the hair, with a completely careless face. Raito winced openly when seeing the devil's face. It was the exact same grin…the exact same face…

'_That's all' _

"Stop…" Raito muttered in a whisper, turning to look away. Injustice…after everything he'd seen…injustice just drove him mad. Upon hearing his voice, the demon ceased the movement immediately. Then he turned to look at the doll's face, as though curious to see what Raito was so upset about.

"What?" he asked, in a completely flat voice "She likes it, right? If you love me…" the demon started, looking at the marionette and then at Raito, with a completely twisted smile. A smile that Raito had seen in the mirror when he'd seen himself holding Misa… The demon shrugged, and with a single movement, grabbed the doll's head in his other fist. Raito's eyes widened, realizing what was about to happen.

"Wai-!" he shouted with an outstretched hand and lunged toward the demon, but it was too late. The devil squeezed his hand, pulverizing what remained of the already broken porcelain head. Then he flung it forward, letting it drop in front of Raito's feet.

Raito looked first at the doll and then at the demon, with a stare that was half spiteful and half amazed. And then, as if on queue, right in front of Raito's eyes, the demon started glowing.

Raito's eyes widened and he looked down at the broken marionette. The marionette's blue eye, with terrorizing preciseness, was fixed on the demon. Raito turned his head to the enemy again, watching as his entire satanic figure was encased in a shine of heavenly light. Even Raito himself felt weak at the knees by the sheer majestic beauty of the creature in front of him.

Was this…was this the way that Misa viewed this…this…demon, who'd just actually killed her?

Was this…the thing that Raito could never understand? The thing that had always been beyond Raito's conception..?

Was this the thing that people call…'love'? Did that thing…even exist in the world? So what is 'love'? In Raito's eyes, it still looked just like a great weakness. Respecting someone to the extent that you would put their fate over your own, without expecting anything in return…that was just plain gullibility. Love had kept Misa from clearly seeing the demon for what he is – even though he is a devil, her love twisted her judgment and made her think of him as an angel. This is weakness, not nobility!

But, as Raito stared at the glow exhibited by the demon's body, he was amazed by the fact that, even though he knew this creature was vile and satanic – produced by a completely hellish world – it was still capable of such beauty when glowing with the adoring glance of 'love'. Was this 'love' concept really so powerful, that it had the power to change a person's entire mind?

Raito just couldn't understand…! It was impossible for him to understand, as he watched the broken pieces of the marionette's crooked smile sitting on the ground. At first, that smile had seemed demonic, vengeful to him. Now it screamed of desperation, paranoia…weakness.

Love was supposed to be heart-warming and hopeful for those who experienced it, but, for Misa, her 'love' had led her to be manipulated and harmed. Raito could understand that it was his exploitation of her that made him seem like Sai… but still, what he'd done to Mia was not the same as rape. Or was it? He couldn't understand clearly!

This concept of 'love' was the source of his confusion, since that's where it all started and ended: it wasn't his fault or her fault that she'd loved him, and it wasn't up to him to make her stop. And if it wasn't his responsibility to relieve her of this weakness…then whose responsibility was it? 'What kind of force guided this…'love' concept, that all humans were subject to?' Raito wondered.

Raito bent down, picking up a few broken pieces of porcelain from the ground and looking at them questioningly, as though waiting for some answers. As though expecting them to tell him exactly what the deuce had processed this woman to…to love him, when he most obviously had never cared about her.

When he felt the glowing light around him intensify, he looked upwards, and realized the demon had approached him.

"This competition is over. Yagami Raito is a superior manipulator: better even then myself." The demon said, and Raito left the pieces on the floor, turning his hands into fists. With every passing moment, the weight in his chest kept becoming heavier and heavier…even though he was certain that what he'd done to Misa was not rape – it was an admittedly cruel exploitation of her weaknesses – he could not accept that it had been in his power to stop her emotional exploitation.

It's true that he could have drawn the line at his manipulation, and not exploited her with the same malicious intent that Sai had exploited him…but on the other had, he was confused about her 'love'. The weight in his chest was growing heavier, and he had a fleeting feeling, as though guided by some spiritual force, that there was a sense of tragedy in this situation, but he couldn't understand why, or how.

It hadn't been his fault if she loved him and he couldn't love her. But, if this force of 'love' – which seemed more cruel than benign – was powerful enough to make her weak against another's ministrations, Raito wondered if it was the fault of this entire universe, which guides people to experience intense emotions, but doesn't guarantee their reciprocation. In the end…had it really been his fault?

Was he guilty for her plight – or for anything except enjoying taking advantage of her? What is the ultimate truth about crime and victimization, and was Raito supposed to feel responsible for the fact that…he'd never been able to love her? Was this another aspect of a criminal, or…was Misa another kind of victim?

Suddenly, Raito's eyes were filled by a blinding white light. He covered his face with his hands and flinched. When the flash was over, he opened his eyes again, letting them adjust to the new lighting plot. The mirrors around him seemed to have disappeared, and there was a door-shaped, glowing gap in one of the walls.

Raito stared at the demon, and then at the shining exit. The demon grinned derisively, and then spoke with all the sarcastic scorn his voice could manage.

"Don't worry. You're ready" the demon nodded, making each of his words drip with venomous indifference that could only be granted to an insect "Soon, this will be over."

Raito raised his eyes immediately, staring at the other. This was the first time…the first time that…that a demon, someone other than Raito himself…had talked about this…place.

…or was the Raito-shaped demon a representation of himself? Raito didn't even know.

"What?" Raito croaked, feeling the blackness in his heart intensify still, as though, despite his overall confusion about whether he felt guilty or not, this overwhelming sense of tragedy was growing inside him.

The demon snorted, looking at the other as though he were a vile, pitiful bug.

"Through that door…" the demon pointed toward the light, and said nothing more. And then, in a flash of blackness, he disappeared right in front of Raito's eyes, leaving Raito alone in the small room, with only the broken doll and the blinding sunlight for company.

Raito looked at the floor. His eyes found the smile again – that painful, shattered smile.

Had he truly 'raped' her? Had he 'raped' all the people he'd manipulated? No, because he'd always made them feel self-assured about what they were doing - he'd never violated them….and yet, he was confused about Misa's final, pitiful ending. Had he been at fault for that?

Instead of him, weren't the spiritual forces to blame – the forces that had forced her to love a man, who would manipulate her and never be able to love her back? And where was Raito's responsibility – Raito's guilt – in all of this?

Did he feel like he would be better off dead? Not now. Not when he needed more answers. Not when he needed to find out why this felt so tragic, and who was at fault for the shortcomings of 'love'?

Raito looked up, at the door sparkling in front of him, with all its glowing light. Beyond it, he would find salvation. Beyond it…this torture could finally end…and the answers would finally come.

He looked down, meeting the broken eye of the marionette, which was staring up at him quietly, as though waiting for his next move – waiting to hear his next command, so that she could fulfill it. Like a lapdog, waiting to be thrown a bone…And what had he done? He'd thrown bones. That's what he should feel guilty about – manipulating her to the extent that he made her literally kill herself.

But if her love was unfulfilled, or if he'd really 'raped' her because of using this love against her…he wasn't sure that he was guilty about that. Overall, more than anything, he was confused.

He closed his eyes, blinking. When he opened them again, for a few short seconds, he thought he saw bloody handprints all over the walls of the small room and the black shadow of a ghost standing against the light of the door.

Then, after a few seconds, his vision adjusted again, and everything came back to normal. Except that it seemed a bit more liquid than usual. Soon, the weight in his chest started choking him. Again, he lost control over his facial muscles, which started dragging the edges of his mouth downward. He quickly realized what was happening, and so he walking forward quickly, on shaking legs.

Well then, if he had to walk through the door, he'd walk through the door. There was only one way to solve this shrewd manner of torture…and he would end it.

And not only would he end it, but he would get more answers. He would understand the true nature of victims, of criminals and of the universe itself, which controlled and provoked the feelings of 'love' and 'hate'. And only after he saw and understood everything…only then would he finally and indisputably…deem himself guilty or not.

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**a/n: hu…rts…every…thing…hurts…I'm too old for writing stuff over thirty pages…Excuse me while I go submerge myself in my bathtub…I'm filthy after nine hours of writing. I should totally get paid for this! It's like a full time job…**

…**hope I didn't make him OOC at the end…**

**ugh…hurts…pain…headache…**

…**tell me if he's OOC and I'll change it again…I tried to keep everything in check!**

**horrible stomachache…uggghh…**

**I'm doing this for your reviews you know! So please, don't make me come over there and whack you with my smelly t-shirt (which I've been wearing for the last nine hours) for not reviewing at all and ignoring meeee!**

**Tell me how you liked it! I hope my hard work is paying off and people enjoy reading this! I know there's not much romance yet, but the whole char development is pretty hard to do, guys!**

**In the next chapter: **

**DA-DA-DUM! Raito finishes the Trial of Souls! **

**Raito x Ryuuzaki forever!! WAHHHHHH! I can't wait to finally write it!!!**

**WAHHHHHH!!!!!**

**Ok, I know, I know. I'm shutting up now.**

**Bye!**

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	11. Jigoku Judeishyaru

**Uhhhh….I'm dying…You see the problem is that I've made a sacred oath to finish this fic by the end of July…and I'm Killing myself here!! Wahhh!**

**Ok, this chapter is super-extra-long, because it's supposed to be the end of Raito's trial. I couldn't resist giving our protagonist a small jab before the end!**

**As always, I hope this chapter is full of surprises. Most of all, however, this time I hope that people don't misunderstand the way I've chosen to end the trial. It will be explained in the fic why I do the things I do, so I hope everyone enjoys this.**

**And if you get bored of this trial, just remember…'just this one chapter and then…DADADUM!!!!!'**

**Finally, this fic will live up to its 'slash!!' warnings…I can't wait!**

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The doll's broken pieces were lying thrashed on the floor. Raito was careful not to step on them as he walked forward, toward the light. His face was fixed in an expression of absolute determination, almond eyes set in a thoughtful frown.

Even though on the outside his face remained just as youthful and robust as it had been at the time of his sudden death, the deepness in his eyes revealed wisdom, a kind of perception that can only be acquired through years and years of experience. Ironically, he thought, as he approached the light and let it blind his eyes, ever since he died he'd felt as though he'd started truly living. As though everything that had happened in the real world, on Earth while he was alive, was just a huge prologue to what would follow.

He stood in front of the portal to the light, his body a black outline against the sparkling shine. He looked backwards one last time, to ascertain that the marionette's broken eye was still fixed on him. It was. He didn't feel intimidated by it any more, but the solid weight in his chest made its presence known again.

He quickly turned forward again. Of course he was afraid to take the step that would lead him to his redemption – regardless of it being salvation or oblivion, as he supposed the two choices would be. Who wouldn't be afraid? And now, the way things had turned out, he wasn't sure that he trusted even himself. True, he'd realized so many things about himself and about his justice recently…but all the ideas were still conflicting in his mind.

On the one hand he didn't want to accept, under any circumstances, that he'd been wrong to act as Kira. He hadn't been wrong to use Misa for such a goal. He knew that his cause was noble all along, which didn't make him the same as any common criminal. However, he'd also realized that, in his effort to reach his goals…he may have harmed more people and in more ways. Misa, for example, who was in love with him to begin with…even though it was neither Raito's nor Misa's fault that she loved him and he couldn't love her, still, somehow, the way that Raito had used this weakness of hers to make her do things that would end up harming her…Of course, he excused himself by repeating that everything he'd done had been in the name of the New World…however, now that he'd actually witnessed his own actions, he wondered if perhaps he'd even been personally enjoying the things that he used to do as Kira as well. After all, having power over other people can be…intoxicating.

Raito had once believed he was even stronger than the Shinigami…a God even. Raito had thought he'd understood the true nature of justice where the gods couldn't…he'd thought he could create a better world! For other people, not for himself. And even though his cause had always been the most important priority of all…after everything he'd seen, and after realizing that not all crimes are committed because of malice…he wasn't even sure that he'd been a good judge. Would the New World be a just world?

In any case, he now had to focus at the present. The door was right in front of him, and the demon had left a hint that this would be the last nightmare that Raito would have to overcome. Now Raito could only hope that the demon hadn't been mocking him again.

But if this nightmare would be anything like the ones before it, Raito thought, he didn't know what he would do. At least that's what he told himself. Because deep down, he still knew that he'd always keep on going, no matter what happened. It's not like he had a choice anyway: he had to reach the end, whatever it may be. Resigning from a fight just wasn't in his blood.

That's what he told himself, as he stepped forward into the light.

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He didn't know what he was expecting to see, but the demon's words had affected him enough to make him think he may find himself in some great Roman arena, or a Judo ring. He'd expected to be asked to win another impossible competition or something of the like. Or, if not a competition, perhaps he'd thought he'd enter a whirlpool of light, a hurricane of darkness or something to that effect.

Unpredictable in its predictability: what he found was the exact opposite of what he'd expected.

The sounds of everyday life surrounded him: sirens, people's voices, cars' horns. He looked around, a bit intimidated after everything he'd seen until now. Then he looked carefully at his surroundings and realized what he was staring at, and what he was standing on. It was a street in Tokyo, complete with vertical neon signs and huge television screens on the top of various skyscrapers.

He whirled around to see the door he'd just walked through. But instead of a portal of light he saw a glass door, which seemed to belong to a bakery shop, since it had a sign above it. He tried to walk through it again, and return to the dark room with the marionette, but the only thing he managed to do was to walk into the bakery shop and excuse himself awkwardly, exiting again and moving a few paces away from the shop, standing there, the middle of the street, like an idiot. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the sunny Tokyo morning and the bustling people in the streets.

Had he just…walked into another world? What was this new hallucination? Why couldn't he just…finish this hell and be done with it? Or perhaps…this new hallucination _was _the end, and like with all other hallucinations, he had to find the right triggers?

"-so then I asked her what kind of leather she was talking about, because if it's pleather then it's _completely _differe-" a female voice echoed from somewhere on the left, and Raito immediately felt something collide with his arm. Losing his balance, he fell down. He turned around to see what had just happened, and saw a couple of girls, one of which seemed to have accidentally pushed him as she'd been walking down the street. Upon recovering, the girls froze in their tracks.

"Kira-sama!" one of them, the blonde, exclaimed in wonder. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" Upon hearing that name, Raito almost jumped. This reaction had been drilled into him after years of being pursued. Had she recognized him as Kira? Were they going to-?

"I'm so sorry!" the blonde girl said again, offering her hand to help him stand up. Raito didn't have time to be aggravated at the savoir-vivre of a hallucination-girl. He was preoccupied with the multiple occurrences that were happening around him, which were overwhelming him.

"Yes!" the other girl, with traditional dark hair and dark eyes, agreed with her friend "Are you all right, sir?" she asked, motioning toward Raito, who nodded a bit numbly. By this time, the girls' voices had attracted a small amount of pedestrians, who had gathered around Raito, to see what was happening. The man stood up quietly by himself, nodding to people to show he was all right, as he bent to sweep imaginary dirt off his trousers.

"Ohhh…he's cute!!!" the blonde one gave a stage whisper to her friend, and Raito almost rolled his eyes. Fortunately, upon seeing there was nothing here to gossip about, most pedestrians started moving away.

If this was a new hallucination game, then he was prepared to play along. And the quickest, most efficient way to do that was to gather as much information as he could. Raito hadn't forgotten the way the blonde girl had exclaimed Kira's name before, and he wanted to ascertain whether she had recognized him as Kira or not. Luckily, she seemed to be quite unabashedly fond of him, so he decided to take advantage of that.

"I'm sorry" he started, giving a characteristic awkward smile which he knew made him look attractive in females' eyes – he realized that he was planning on manipulating people again, and couldn't believe that this need for manipulation was so extremely drilled in his personality. However, under the circumstances, he really needed to gather information. "I seem to be a bit lost…could you direct me to the closest metro station?" he asked. In this way, they wouldn't consider him a complete idiot who didn't even know which street this was, but they would also believe he really was lost.

"Of course!" the blonde woman started, interrupting her friend in an effort to draw all of his attention to herself – even as hallucinations, women are so easy to understand, Raito thought and immediately berated himself. He had to stop 'raping' people – he wouldn't let himself be like Sai! Then the woman directed him to the metro.

Based on her directions, Raito started to gain a vague understanding of his surroundings, realizing that he was situated in downtown Tokyo. If this really was Shinjuku, then it had changed quite a bit since he remembered it: gone where the various 'resting' hotels, host bars and dark faces in the streets. This place seemed much cleaner now. So, in order to advance the conversation and gain more information, Raito decided to ask the girls about this atmosphere.

"Shibuya seems much more organized these days, doesn't it?" he asked, pondering if perhaps 'organized' was too light a word for what he was trying to convey.

But the girls seemed to catch on immediately, and the blonde spoke again.

"Naturally, as is to be expected from Kira-sama!" she said, with a completely cheerful voice. "Over the last five years, he has lowered criminality 7.4 per cent in this part of Japan alone!"

"Kira-sama is amazing!" the brunette then told her friend, and they both nodded in unison. "I don't know what we'd do without him!" Safe to say that Raito could not believe what he was hearing.

Had he actually met a group of Kira supporters? Of course, with this being a hallucination, probably anything was possible. They didn't seem to recognize him as Kira…they were obviously talking about Kira's function in general. Before, when they'd exclaimed Kira's name upon seeing Raito, it was probably a sort of commonly used phrase…it didn't have anything to do with Raito at all…

"Well-" he started saying, but didn't manage to end his phrase, since a loud, piercing squeal interrupted him.

"That man stole my purse!! That man stole my purse!!" a loud female shriek echoed around them, and Raito's company turned to see what was happening. They saw a bearded man running down the wide pavement, looking desperate while holding a moderately sized beige bag. And a woman was left yelling behind him, almost in histrionics.

Raito stifled his urge to say something about the situation, reminding himself that he was in a hallucination, and he shouldn't allow himself to be carried away with the game. He didn't get the chance to do anything, however, since, immediately after the woman started screaming, a group of seven or eight pedestrians moved forward, blocking the robber's way. The robber, instead of acting roughly, looked completely desperate as he tried to escape the roadblock.

Raito's temporary astonishment at this involvement of the pedestrians in matters of justice was doomed to be short lived. Within a matter of minutes, a police car moved in, sirens deafening with their blaring lights.

Amazed at such extremely swift measures, even in a hallucination, Raito was about to express his approval. He didn't get the chance to say anything, however, since the police car door opened and a police officer immediately walked out. All the pedestrians around had frozen in place – the only one still shouting and moving was the robber, who was trying to bypass the meddling pedestrians and run towards a dark alley close by… but the pedestrians left him no room for escape. Then, within milliseconds, the policeman reached to his side and pulled out his weapon, aiming directly at the thief. Raito's eyes widened and his mouth opened as he realized what was about to happen.

It all took place in slow motion. Raito wanted to shout '_wait!'_ but he never had the chance.

Before he could even open his mouth, the policeman fired.

The gunshot echoed around like the sound of a dying bird in the stillness, and the next time Raito managed to catch a glimpse of what was happening, there was a bullet lodged between the perpetrator's eyes.

The sound of the body as it crumbled to the ground was so loud in the muted silence that Raito thought he couldn't even hear his heart beating anymore. When it was all said and done, the policeman holstered his weapon, as if nothing had happened. The pedestrians who'd been blocking the thief's way walked away, leaving the sight of a wide-eyed corpse, with a bewildered expression.

"NO!" Raito's voice echoed alone in the street, bouncing off the walls of the skyscrapers. The girls and the few pedestrians standing near him turned around, looking at him with an expression of utter amazement.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" the brunette asked, staring at him as if he'd grown another head. "He just stole something."

Raito looked at her, noticing her huge earrings and bug-eyed face. How could she even dare to assume she knew something about _justice_?

"What if he needed money to feed his family? What if he was sick? He just stole a bag!" he questioned, feeling sick in his gut. "Didn't you see his face?" This hallucination was not meant for him…after everything he'd seen, injustice made him feel just plain ill. But now seeing the woman's incomprehensive face, he decided that he should remember not to get too involved in this situation. It was a hallucination, he reminded himself. A hallucination. No one had been killed, everything was all right.

"Well what about the woman? What about her things? What if she had her respirator machine in there? We should always obey Kira-sama's laws!" the brunette insisted, now placing her hands on her hips in a stance of dissidence.

"She can find another respirator." Raito said "That was just-" He thought of what the woman had just said about Kira, and decided to risk asking her about it. "What do you mean Kira's 'laws'…?"

The girls stared at him strangely "Wow…you're really not from around here, are you…?" the blonde muttered, "Kira-sama protected the world and helped all of us. But ever since he left the Earth a few years ago, he entrusted us with his legacy. Now 'Kira' is the name of our law system." and then she pointed at something. Raito followed her indication and ended up looking at one of the lampposts.

"See that?" she asked, with a cheerful smile, as though she hadn't just witnessed unprovoked murder in cold blood "Only last week, there were cameras installed in all of Tokyo's massive public areas to detect criminality at all times! Most criminals – like that robber just now – probably aren't aware of the exact locations of the cameras yet. Neither are we, of course, but we can guess that most of the times the cameras are hidden in lampposts or in shop signs… The police patrolling the area are instantly alerted in case of turbulence."

'_Turbulence?'_ Raito thought sourly _'What is this, an airplane flight?'_ But on the outside he just nodded, privately wondering how the Japanese people had been convinced to surrender their privacy for a system reminiscent of George Orwell's '1984' and how Kira's name had come to be associated with cameras in the streets? Weren't the authorities going too far? Again, Raito had to remind himself not to become too involved in this hallucination. However, he still wondered if this was a representation of Tokyo after Raito's death or something. These people seemed to be familiar enough with Kira…

"What does this camera system have to do with Kira?" Raito asked, risking the question and opting to use his charm and milk out information from these willing women.

"Kira-sama? Well, Kira-sama showed us that the only way to stop criminals, once and for all, is to dispose of them. If someone is hazardous to society, he is neutralized." the brunette answered him this time, and she looked positively smug as she spoke about Kira "The cameras are here to improve Kira-sama's New World."

Raito froze. He turned his eyes, which had been roaming around and watching the abandoned corpse of the robber, to focus completely on the girl.

"What did you just say…this is?" he asked, with eyes as narrow as slits. The woman seemed to become intimidated, since she answered quicker than before.

"Kira-sama's New World." She answered, solidly. Raito turned to look at the blonde, searching for signs that he was being mocked. However, both girls' faces looked utterly serious.

Growing numb, Raito let his face sink in an expression of complete neutrality. This hallucination…was a representation of what the world would look like…if Raito had defeated Near and realized his dreams? But…but…

"Kira would never kill a person for such a minor crime….it doesn't sound like him. He only ever killed murderers and rapists…criminals who were unrepentant."

The brunette seemed a bit aggravated; she hardly seemed to have considered Raito's arguments at all. "Kira-sama was sent to us by God, to protect us from the sinners. Of course he would kill a sinner! And we have to follow his teachings." It sounded like a conditioned response.

Raito froze, his blood chilling in his veins. Like a pillar of ice growing in his heart, he realized what was happening. "You said…Kira…sama, isn't here anymore…?" he asked, trying to blend in. Judging by the way these women spoke, the real person 'Kira' – a.k.a. Raito – had already died…

"Yes…Kira-sama was a prophet, and he had God's powers to destroy sinners! Even though he died about ten years ago, he showed us the way, and now we are continuing his work." The woman answered him again, smiling. "Before Kira-sama came, they say that there were laws and legislations. Everyone thought that criminals should die, but no one was brave enough to admit it…then Kira-sama came and proved that crime must be openly destroyed."

'_Yes…'_ he thought sarcastically '_But 'Kira-sama' did not kill everyone indiscriminately, nor did he kill in such a crude way!!'_

Without another answer, too afraid of what else he might hear, he nodded, turning to look at the other side of the street. Two policemen had exited the car now, and they were lifting the robber's corpse off the street. The woman whose purse had been stolen was thanking them again and again, for killing the thief. They flung the body in the police car as though it were a sack of potatoes and then, without wasting any time, they entered the – much more technologically advanced than Raito remembered –vehicle and drove away.

Now, the only thing that was left on the street, which could signify the horror that had just taken place, was a gigantic red stain on the pavement, where the unlucky man's had fallen, like a cantaloupe.

"Well…thank you. I'll just… be going now." the man said a little numbly. He contented himself with reminding himself that he was experiencing a hallucination, that none of this was real and that, whatever new horror awaited him, he would soon be relieved from it. This was not real…it was just a cruel representation. A mockery of Raito's greatest ambition.

Of course he had never wanted this, when he'd been imagining the New World! This was just…a huge lie!

"Wait! Don't you want to know anything else?" the blonde girl eagerly asked from behind him, with a voice that sounded vaguely desperate. But Raito just turned toward her slowly, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry…maybe some other time." He didn't even have enough energy to shoot her a smile, simply contenting himself with turning around and walking away with forced congeniality. She was a hallucination anyway. He couldn't care less if he'd leave the wrong impression.

"…Um…Bye…" he heard the voices of the girls behind him, but didn't turn back around. Instead, he just walked forward.

So he ambled down the street, observing. Instead of diesel-powered cars, the streets were now full of ecological automobiles. Truly, this hallucination was an illustration of a futuristic world that Raito had never seen before.

As he walked, he watched the pedestrians. Everyone was smiling. The streets were even cleaner than Raito remembered them – completely spotless. Whenever he heard strangers talking to each other in the street, the words always carried a sense of extreme politeness, to the extent of unnatural.

Becoming distressed by marching down the street, he decided a walk in the park was in order instead.

He'd just started admiring the extreme sense of serenity exhibited by the quiet nature reserve, when he suddenly stopped. There were two boys in front of him, not more than twelve, thirteen years old, and they were playing on the lawn. One was holding and brandishing what seemed to be a plastic dagger, whereas the other was waving a plastic weapon around, shouting obscenities. Raito noticed that the boy had painted some kind of red crosses on his face, as though he belonged to a religious cult of some sort.

"Die, die!!" the boy with the gun mimicked shooting sounds, and the one with the dagger mimed falling down "Criminals should die!"

Raito watched them for a few moments, until the one with the dagger, the 'criminal', stood back up. They tussled for a bit in the way young boys often do, until finally, they stopped. Finally, Raito started moving again, realizing they were staring at him strangely. As he was walking away, he heard the vague voice of one of the boys say:

"Why should I always be the criminal? I want to be Killer, for once!"

'_I want to be Killer?'_ Raito thought it sounded shrewd '_Is Kira an action figure now?'_

Raito shook his head, letting his pace build up. Even though this was a hallucination, it was a very disturbing one. If he was expected to believe that this would have happened if his dreams about the New World had been fulfilled, then…

Having lost his appetite for a walk in the park, he headed toward the metro station, belatedly realizing that he had no money to pay for a ticket. He considered asking someone for help, but realized that it would sound completely ludicrous. Not to mention that even attempting to steal one was not an option, considering what this society did to thieves. He needn't have worried, however, since moments later, a security guard approached him.

"Excuse me, sir? May I be of assistance?"

Raito was amazed. Everyone in this world seemed to talk and look like a robot –extremely polite, proper and willing to help…so much that it sounded just plain abnormal, even for the naturally polite Japanese language.

"Um…?" Raito said, not knowing how to say that he was in need of a ticket and had no money to buy one. Besides, he didn't really know why this security man was talking to him in the first place.

"I saw you loitering around and wondered if something was the matter." The security guard said by means of explanation. Raito was tempted to ask if loitering was illegal now, but realized he would rather not bother. This was a hallucination, he reminded himself. Nothing more and nothing less.

"No…everything's fine…" and then, an idea sparked in Raito's mind "…except that I seem to have lost my wallet…"

Raito thought it rather comical that the security guard made such an alarmed face.

"Did someone steal it from you? Did you see the perpetrator? Were you blackmailed or threatened in any way…?" he quickly asked, and his face took a strange look of suspicion. As though he were a rabid dog, who'd been acting calm but secretly waiting for this chance to go berserk all along.

"No, no…" Raito said, shaking his hand in front of his face and giving the policeman an easy-going grin, hoping to calm the other man down. Some pedestrians had even stopped to see the commotion. "Nothing like that…perhaps I just dropped it somewhere. And I had everything inside it: my credit cards, all my money…my doctor's prescription…everything!" Raito went a bit overboard with his explanation, but he couldn't help it. This man's face was just begging to be lied to, not to mention that he needed to give his plight some credibility. "I was just looking for it around here…but I don't think I'll ever find it again! And now I have to take the train to see my little brother…"

The security guard looked suspicious at first, but his look of uncertainty turned to one of compassion according to Raito's words, until finally he was nodding his head in understanding. After a few moments that Raito acted out his melancholy, the guard spoke again.

"You'd do best to inform the authorities about your problem, sir. There is a chance that you may find it…and just in case anyone has stolen it! …For now, however, let me buy you a free ticket for the metro…"

Was this man stupid, a pushover or just overly nice?? Even Raito couldn't believe that he had managed to convince the man so easily! Was this an individualized case of kindness bordering on stupidity, or was this a general phenomenon in this society? These people were utterly confusing: on the one hand they killed criminals and suspected everything, but on the other they were extremely hospitable and willing to serve each other. Raito had some trouble understanding. Nevertheless, he accepted the man's hospitality, thanking him many times for the ticket.

As he boarded the train, he kept thinking that there were some good aspects about this place after all. He looked at the people around him in the train, and was overly surprised at all these calm, serene faces he encountered. No one seemed wary of one another. No one seemed afraid or anxious when talking to strangers. People were much more willing to help than Raito had ever remembered. Even if they were pushovers…they seemed happy and peaceful, as though they felt safe and protected. This was probably because they felt reassured that, if anyone dared hurt another person, that criminal would die almost instantly.

Everything around Raito was smooth and clean.

Kira's…New World? Had Kira done this? Raito almost felt himself burst with pride. This was indeed what he'd been thinking when he'd thought of a better society: a place where people would feel reassured of each other's good intentions, and would not be afraid to buy a complete stranger a metro ticket. A place where people would feel complete safe from crime…

But at the same time, just as he was patting his back for the success of his justice, he remembered those boys he'd seen at the park, shouting obscenities and pretending to kill criminals from the age of twelve. Not to mention that robber, who hadn't looked malicious enough. Of course, Raito could never be sure of other peoples' intentions, but…still, killing a person in cold blood, just because of one action…

And, after everything he'd been through, Raito had stopped taking death so lightly. Sending someone to…whatever happens after life, especially if it's an afterlife like Raito's…is not such a nice thing to do, based on Raito's personal experience.

Finally, Raito reached his destination. Having calmed down substantially since the time he first arrived in this new hallucination, he walked quietly out of the train, grinning slightly along with all the other smiling people around him.

However, just as he stepped out of the train, the first thing he saw was a policeman, with his pistol – higher tech. than Raito remembered – out in the ready.

This time, the scenery was different than before. There was a grimy-looking man holding a knife over a teenaged girl's throat, and his face didn't look at all desperate – it was rather malicious instead. Just as monstrous as Sai had been when he-

Raito stopped that trail of thought.

"You'll never stop-!!" the man with the knife started shouting, but the policeman shot him before he could finish the sentence. The gunshot echoed around the station. The crowd, who had all stopped moving – to give the policeman a clear headshot, Raito realized – resumed its movement. They were shaking their heads in astonishment and disappointment for a few moments, and then they all approached the policemen and started thanking them.

Raito thought that these public cameras might actually be useful, since this kind of sexual harassment in the station would normally go unnoticed by authorities. Perhaps the idea of cameras was not all that negative after all…

Raito stared at the trembling teenager, who was shuddering and saying 'thank you' to the police. He heard a policeman saying 'No problem, Ma'am. He deserved it." And then Raito turned to look at the criminal, whose blood was now trickling over the platform. He found that he couldn't disagree with the policeman – men like this one – like Sai – really were better off dead…but…

But this was not Kira. Kira's work had been different. More refined. It had a sense of Godhood to it – of divine Judgment…whereas a gunshot appeared crude, like human murder…Not like Kira. This people had the right to do what they wanted with their legal system, but Raito was upset by the fact that they were abusing Kira's name. Kira was something greater: the struggle for his ideals to persevere, the epic fights with Ryuuzaki and his scions…Kira was…Raito. No one could ever understand the very essence of being Kira as well as Raito had. Not Misa, not Mikami, and certainly not these-

"Are you all right sir?" Raito heard a voice from his left, and it took a few moments for him to realize that someone was talking to him. He turned around and saw the policeman, the one who'd shot someone a few minutes ago, staring at him in concern. It took a few moments for Raito to realize that his body was trembling and that the policeman was concerned about his health.

"Fine…" Raito muttered, with a slack jaw. The policeman was smiling, completely jovial. As though he hadn't just killed someone. Like the security guard Raito had talked to before. For some reason, Raito had expected the policeman to be cruel, mean. With some underlying psychosis, even…however, the policeman looked utterly normal. Just like a soldier who's been sent to war – just because he's ordered to kill someone doesn't make his act…murder?

Could that kind security guard kill someone? Just like this kind policeman could? And to what extent could-? What was-? Why-?

When the hell had everything gotten so very difficult?

Raito nodded again and moved away, trying not to walk too fast lest someone suspect him of being a criminal's accomplice or something. Apparently, the people in this society didn't have any qualms about manslaughter. If someone committed even a minor crime, there were no inhibitions about killing him.

Well, Raito couldn't deny that all criminals were being effectively wiped out, and that society was surely cleaner…But when he'd been thinking of a New World, he'd been thinking of a place _completely_ without evil…not a place where everyone was becoming desensitized.

He didn't understand why this was happening, exactly. Even if it was a hallucination, Raito could only suppose that it was an extremely realistic one, designed to make him live his dream. However, what he'd thought would be a perfect paradise was turning out to be just another part of hell. Because…

Kira's ideal world…didn't seem to work.

If Kira had indeed defeated Near and created the New World…then, logically, after all the constant punishment…criminals would simply stop appearing, right? Just like with ants, or cockroaches, criminals would eventually be vanquished. Only then would society truly be cleansed! But this didn't seem to be the case…even after all these years, Raito was still seeing criminals around. The only difference with before was that they were being killed immediately, without being allowed to walk around on the loose. But evil was latent everywhere, even though there was an ever-present fear of punishment. Why?

Even though he'd felt cheerful at the balance of this society before, while he'd been on the train, now he was aggravated again. And he wasn't aggravated at the fact that criminals were being killed. After all, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, the Death Note was a form of murder as well, only a more indirect and clean one.

The problem was that, apparently…Kira's New World…

It didn't matter how clean society had become…criminals were still here. People still talked with percentages: this year, criminality has fallen 5 percent, etc. Why couldn't criminality just _stop_ altogether…? Because…there were people like Sai around?

But were malicious criminals idiots? Didn't they understand that they'd be killed if they attempted crime in public? Why did they not learn through punishment? How many of them had to die to simply prevent people from committing crimes?

But then again, what about crime born out of necessity? Raito remembered the way his father, and later himself, been forced to rape Sayu. Was this why crime could never be extinguished? As long as human needs, values, ideals and beliefs existed…the danger of crime also exists? Like Abraham in the Jewish scriptures, who was prepared to slaughter his child out of necessity?

Then again, perhaps crime was in human nature itself. Some people were just…born that way. Like Cain and Abel, where jealousy created a rift, which led to murder…

Would Kain be better off dead? However… if Kain hadn't kept living after killing Avel, he would have never had the chance to repent. If Kain had died because of justice…then there would _be_ no scriptures.

Repent…repent…

How to make them stop committing crimes without killing them off? It's simply impossible! That's why Raito had resorted to the Death Note all along. That and the fact that he'd wanted to use it, anyway, since he'd been granted something so powerful. To try and make someone stop committing crimes…to try and change someone's nature…to try and create a conscience where there was none…this was exactly what all those years of useless law enforcement system had tried to do – and failed.

But on the other hand…seeing this world now…killing them off didn't seem to work either. Did nothing work?

How was he supposed to understand justice anymore, when he wasn't being given any feedback?

He didn't feel as sorry or guilty for the latest death he had seen as he felt for the robber before. But in any case, this did not alleviate the fact that he had witnessed two hallucinogenic murders within two hours, and he didn't feel all right at all. Was this what a perfect society was supposed to be?

He started walking away from the scene, along with the rest of the unperturbed crowd. And what could be said about the policemen? Kind and polite, until they saw you do the wrong thing. Then they became killing machines – like soldiers dropping bombs over Hiroshima – and no amount of begging could change their mind, because they were following orders, not thinking about who deserves to die and who doesn't!

In any case, trying to wipe these thoughts away, Raito walked out of the station. He'd decided to visit a familiar place, in hopes of resolving this new panic that had spawned around him.

Immediately, as he exited the station, his vision was overcome by an oasis of cherry trees. He hadn't seen a Sakura park in this part of town before…it must be a new addition to Tokyo. Raito looked at the park and saw a group of children with what seemed to be their teacher.

They looked…happy. Safe.

He didn't understand! Was this world right or wrong?

This hallucination, just as all the other ones, was extremely realistic. Sighing again, and feeling like he was being put through some new kind of interrogation, Raito turned around, looking for the HQ building, which had become his point of origin in this crazy hell.

But he was doomed not to see the building today. Right in front of him, standing tall and filling all his vision, was a gigantic religious shrine.

And perhaps most importantly, it was dedicated to 'God Kira'. He looked at it numbly, not realizing what it was, at first. Then he staggered a bit, feeling his knees weaken.

It wasn't only that he was too amazed by what he was seeing. It was also the fact that he'd just realized exactly _where_ this temple was built. It occupied the space where the old HQ building used to stand. L's glass obelisk of computers and machines had been wrecked, and in its place was built this…this…temple.

Since Raito was curious to enter this thing, despite feeling a bit intimidated by the sheer massive size of it, he steeled himself and walked forward. Somehow, he felt he should be feeling more excited about this. This hallucination was obviously a presentation of what the world would have been like if Raito's Kira had prevailed. Therefore, why was he feeling so…numb about it all?

And so, he went inside, passing through a pedestal with a huge statue upon it. He stood still and stared at the Baroque-reminiscent sculpture, which was the representation of two people. One was a knight in full armour, with one hand raised up in the air pointing at the sky, and the other stretched in front on him, pointing downward at the second sculpted form – the form of a man lying on the ground, holding his chest over his heart. It was as though the knight – Kira, obviously – was drawing his power from…the sky?…to provoke a heart attack.

Raito's own heart gave a painful lurch as he observed the statue of the man in pain: he remembered very well what it felt like. Not only that, but he keenly remembered Ryuuzaki's strained face as the detective left his last breath in Raito's arms. At that time, Raito pondered sarcastically, Ryuuzaki had also seemed not to think much of what it had felt like.

On the marble pedestal beneath the statue was an inscription, in English. Raito kneeled and read it.

'Strike fear in the heart of evil, and your voice shall be heard.'

Now Raito was becoming angry. Who did these people think they were, taking Kira's ideas for a purified world and turning them into...into...some kind of...travesty? Even if this was a hallucination...was he supposed to believe that this was the Now World that he had wanted to create? He'd always wanted calmness and serenity...and of course, a tribute to his own power. However, he wanted the tribute to be about how persistent and powerful he'd been when trying to promote his ideals to the world and oppose the restrictive governments. He wanted books to be written about his achievements – about how he'd finally defeated L! He didn't want... something that looked like it came out of a half-Shinto, half-Christian, and half-Buddhist fashion show!

As he walked, Raito carefully observed every single part of this so-called temple: everything around him was painted red: the paved little street that led from the gates to the main temple, the leaves of the surrounding trees, the wooden columns that adorned the garden. It looked like a bad Feng Sui advertisement.

Raito turned around, pausing in his tracks. Just as he was staring around the huge red pillars in wonder, he heard a voice.

"It symbolizes the blood of the sinners…" a male voice suddenly rung, and Raito turned around to see a sage-looking man in a red robe approaching him, obviously the caretaker of this…institution. "The sight of their blood purifies this world, and reminds us always of our duty."

'_Duty_'? But Raito had thought that it was _his_ duty, not theirs! Being Kira wouldn't be half as important if everyone could do it!

He was getting angrier by the second. This was completely and utterly wrong. There was never any blood involved! It was a clean job of quickly disposing of criminals! That was the entire point of the Death Note – and the entire point of purification itself! Not this…this…charade! If they didn't have the Death Note, then…

"But won't the blood send the wrong message to Kira's believers?" Raito asked, weighing his words carefully when talking to these people "Kira's work is not about carnage…it is about purging and purifying."

"Of course it is." the man answered, nodding his head compassionately "Kira is much too graceful …Kira's work is God's work. Kira is God. Who else could provoke a heart attack? This temple is just a tribute to his ideal…it serves to remind the evildoers of what awaits them if they persist on their ways."

Raito's pulse was starting to thunder. Somehow, he'd thought he'd feel much more ratified at being called God than he currently was. Instead of this man's words, he could only hear Mikami's malicious screams in his mind. He asked the thing he wanted to know most:

"If Kira's way of doing things is really so effective…then, why, after years of living by Kira's rules are criminals still walking in the streets?"

The other man stayed silent for a while, as though contemplating his answer. Raito mentally cackled, realizing he had won the argument. And then, finally, the red clad man turned around again "That is because evil is ever-present in the world. Life would have no meaning without the constant effort to vanquish it for the sake of vanquishing." A small pause followed, and then an extravagant smile "After having accepted that it is not an evil to vanquish evil openly, we are all so happy and balanced."

Raito thought of the cameras he'd seen…the fact that people were accustomed to seeing murder without batting an eyelash…The fact that everyone was extremely nice to each other, until someone wasn't so nice, at which point that dissident was simply deemed a hazard and killed. Was this really… the better society he'd dreamt of, where evil does not exist…? Was this really…'balanced'? Because, by now, he'd lost all hope that this place was purged of evil – obviously, that could not be done. But, to his woe, he realized that it wasn't even balanced.

People didn't even seem to be able to discern good from evil anymore. They had a few names to identify crimes: 'stealing' 'murdering' and so on, but they didn't manage to separate malicious crimes from crimes of passion. In fact, this society technically applauded murder – some murders excusable and some not – every day. That didn't make them much better than the criminals themselves, despite their noble causes.

Raito caught himself, amazed at his thoughts. How could he think something like that? If something like that was true, then he'd been a murderer as well! No…no…the point wasn't whether he'd been a murderer or not. He'd said all along to Ryuuku that he didn't care about committing sins, as long as there was no Heaven or Hell…That 's why Raito had decided to carry the weight of the entire world in his two hands, and show the world an Apocalyptic event. He'd considered it his personal duty to cleanse society – he'd considered the Death Note his duty, because power becomes power only when it is used.

Only then would his struggle and Godly title have meaning: if he succeeded in creating a society without evil, by doing everything on his own and not bringing any more people in the position to chose who to convict and who not to convict. By succeeding where the world order had failed: only then would he be like a God.

Naturally, at that time, he hadn't known about death. He hadn't known a single thing about Gods.

After a few minutes, he slowly exited the shrine, thanking the caretaker – or whatever monk-like thing he was – for his 'kind advice' and walking at a slow pace. He looked back at the temple, and, unexplainably, wanted to see the Headquarters. Regardless of all the other problems, this temple was just horrible, as was this entire 'Kira religion': a mixture of Renaissance sculpture and Japanese architecture. Just plain garish. Raito had wanted respect and dignified honour.

As he walked, he heard a small child asking his mother for an ice-cream. He started idly wondering what he would do now that there was obviously no HQ building to visit. His eyes caught a café in the corner of the street and he decided.

The clerks were all nice and polite. The waitress' smile seemed permanently stuck on her face. People around chattered happily, and not once did Raito pay any attention to them. Instead, he looked outside. There were three kinds of recycling bins on this street alone. Everything was so …'good', and yet, excessive in its goodness. As though these people had something to hide beneath their façade of calmness.

Like a dark underlying plague, evil still existed, now not only in the minds of criminals, but also in the passiveness of the general public. There was no one to even question the death penalty! This was not what he'd dreamed…he hadn't meant to cow the general population. This was all wrong.

Belatedly, as he looked at the swirling colours of his tea, he realized that, even if he'd won in his struggle, the world he would have created would eventually look like this. While Kira would live, the New World would be fine…but after his death, just like with all grand figures and dictators of history, his legacy would be completely distorted, his words used to defend different values than the ones he'd originally intended.

Until now he'd thought that he'd failed his ideal because he'd been defeated by Near. But apparently, as illustrated by this extremely naturalistic presentation…

He would have failed anyway? It seemed impossible to vanquish evil completely. This idiotic priest had accidentally said something substantial amongst all the other cant: evil exists to be vanquished, for the sake of being vanquished. How could the meaning of 'good' and 'bad' be understood, if there was no evil to separate the two? Would a peaceful society appreciate peace in the same way as a society, which has known evil?

By trying to create a 'peaceful' society, completely unaccustomed to evil and hardship…was he just trying to create a _dumber_ society? It is obviously unachievable to destroy evil completely. But if, in an ideal situation, evil could be wiped out…the situation in a completely benevolent human society would be exactly the same as it had been for Adam and Eve in Eden:

Peaceful, balanced…but deprived of everything that defines a human. (2)

Deprived of the sweat, the tears, the struggle, the deprivation. After a long struggle to reinstall themselves in paradise, Adam and Eve will appreciate their peaceful coexistence much more than they originally did, when they'd just taken it for granted.

When Raito had been alive he had thought that a perfect society would be the ideal. But now, after bleeding and sweating, after fighting to learn and defeat his own fear…he felt more alive than he ever had. For certain, before he'd been given the Death Note he'd been piteous and quiet…but also so very ignorant and dull.

And now look at him. He'd killed, he'd died, he'd learned pain, he'd learned suffering and he'd learned courage. What meaning would his current existence have if…if evil did not exist?

But did victims…want revenge? Did Raito want revenge from Sai?

_Yes._ His mind readily supplied, but at the same time, an equally strong thought erupted from somewhere _What's the point?It's not like he'll feel sorry if I rape him in return. He'll just become even more vicious._

He didn't understand what he should do!

Justice…!! The power of justice was abandoning him!! In the end, that's what he had been ordained to do: attribute justice. Help people feel…as though they were justified!

Not to mention that, obviously, Justice wasn't being attributed effectively…Even though Raito had studied the history of the judicial system and deemed it ineffective time and time again…the thing he was seeing now was still not the answer.

Just as he was lost in his musings, he heard a little girl's voice echo from his right.

"Mama…!" the child called, in the distinctive needy voice "Mama…look what I found on the floor!"

Raito turned around curiously, since the tone of the child's voice drew his attention. He saw the little girl, complete with pink ensemble and flowery hair accessories, waving 500 yen around in the air, in front of her mothers lap. Her mother's face seemed curious at once, but the moment she noticed what the child was holding she released a gasp and her expression became scandalized.

"Natsuko..!!" the mother said in a hushed tone, privately chastising her offspring. Raito watched the woman's obvious nervousness with interest "Put that where you found it! Right now!"

"But mama—" the girl whined.

"I said put it back!" the mother's tone was harsh.

Raito raised a mental eyebrow, but on the outside he kept his expression blank. Five hundred yen was not that much money – the woman could have kept it if she wanted, or considered it a stroke of luck. However, instead of keeping the money someone had obviously accidentally dropped in the café…she'd left it right where she found it.

Raito wondered if this attitude had anything to do with the fact that the woman may be afraid of being called a thief and persecuted. And if every adult who saw the money refused to pick it up…then exactly how long had the money been lying there, waiting for its rightful owner to pick it up.

On the one hand Raito was pleased, seeing that the people in this society were completely honest – perhaps honest to the point of idiocy (1) – and that Kira's punishment had indeed intimidated them…but on the other hand, Kira was supposed to strike fear in the hearts of criminals, not innocent people…why was Kira seen as a dictatorship? Had he always been seen that way?

"Are more people happier like this?" he asked himself aloud in a tone of mild befuddlement, talking more to himself than to anyone else. He asked yet again, as though unable to believe it. Even though this world had some good elements…the problematic aspects were much more pronounced, Raito admitted, with a knot in his throat.

Somehow, even though everything was superficially perfect, this place didn't feel satisfying enough. There were still criminals around. When he'd been thinking of being a God of the New World, he'd been expecting crowds to cheer at Kira's extreme intelligence, at the fact that Kira – a.k.a. Raito – truly was a force comparable to God, able to succeed where God had failed and give true, absolute justice to the world…change the way people think.

But now, seeing this…he wondered if…perhaps punishment was not the answer? Or at least not the absolute answer… If criminals were being punished so severely, then why did they still insist on committing crimes? He remembered the desperate robber. On the other hand, people like Sai – Raito felt a chill up his spine – had to be punished. Raito had always thought this was a fact. But on the other hand…these people were completely moronic in their obsessions. Would punishing them really be fruitful?

Raito remembered the words of that malicious man he'd seen holding a knife earlier that day '_you'll never stop.-…us?'_

Perhaps punishing them was actually…severing the problem? Perhaps bashing a rabid dog will make it even more furious? Maybe agitating the problem is not the answer here, Raito thought, and internally cursed himself for gaining these epiphanies when he was already dead, and they were useless. In any case, now he wasn't in the real world, and he didn't hold the Death Note in his hands…everything was over, for him.

Best if he'd just died.

He didn't understand justice anymore! How could justice be attributed, if the sense of absolute justice did not exist?

And where would he go now? He had nothing to do in this huge fake world… Sinking in melancholy, he stared at 'Kira's temple', which had replaced the HQ building. And then, suddenly, as he thought of the HQ building an idea hit him: something that might make him feel better. If this hallucination world really was a replica of what the world would have looked like if Kira had defeated Nate Rivers…then obviously…

Standing up immediately, eager to leave, Raito belatedly remembered that he had no money to pay for this coffee.

After a minor panic attack, he finally realized what he should do: these people were obsessed with criminality. He'd play on their weaknesses. Immediately, he started shouting:

"I've been robbed! My wallet! Oh no!"

At times, even he admired his own gall.

Convincing the waiters that his wallet had just been stolen was a piece of cake. Especially when he started pointing toward directions and describing non-existent suspects, no one had misunderstood him for not having any money. There were probably surveillance cameras around the store but, since these people were obsessed with crimes, they would search fro imaginary suspects even if there were none.

This whole scenery verified his impression that this world, despite extremely peaceful and clean, was comprised of pushovers.

A bus ride, a metro station and five minutes of walking distance away, he reached his destination.

As he walked, he heard a woman's voice echo from somewhere on the left "Muuu….Kenjiii! A date in the cemetery is no fun! What were you thinking?" she whined, slinging her boyfriend's hand back and forth in hers. Raito was instantly reminded of Misa, and, for the umpteenth time in the last few hours, the dark weight inside of him made its presence known.

Letting these reflections aside for a few moments, he quietly walked through the perfectly trimmed lawn, passing by various monuments and family tombs. If his calculations were indeed correct, and this hallucination represented a world where Kira had won, then…

Maybe he was expecting the tombstone to talk to him? Maybe he missed the more quiet days of his recently tumultuous existence. Most likely, he just wanted a flash of the sign of his victory.

'_Ryuga Hideki'_

Age: unknown. Nationality: unknown. Real name: unknown. Right next to his tomb was Watari's.

Ahh…this place always brought a sense of satisfaction to the very core of Raito's psyche. He kneeled, sinking his fingers in the lawn next to Ryuuzaki's tombstone, wanting to experience that feeling again: the feeling of long-awaited, absolute victory and freedom. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the very definition of triumphant exhilaration sing through his entire neural system.

Now without the photo, he resorted to the next best thing. He grinned as he heard the familiar mantras run through his mind.

'…_and now you're buried six feet under…you're buried six feet under…Losers will never get to patronize me again!!'_

Suddenly, a small indentation appeared between his eyebrows. Maybe it was the fact that he'd seen Ryuuzaki's face much too recently. But somehow, unexplainably, he didn't feel all that much better as he left the cemetery.

He'd only managed to walk a few paces on the sidewalk outside, before he stopped dead in his tracks. His fingers started shaking, and he shoved them in his pockets to stop them. The world around seemed to become dulled, the noises of the city grew muted and the lights of the cars – since it was already evening – were spinning into a vortex around Raito's vision.

«So how do you like it, great Kira?» the voice asked, just as occult and flickering as Raito had remembered, from that brief time he'd ever heard it with his own ears.

He didn't answer and just stayed put.

«Is it everything you'd ever hoped for?» it asked again, and Raito stared at it. Albino children would never cease to look controversial in a Japanese man's eyes, he thought sourly, as he stared at the white hair. Ryuuzaki's aura was spilling all over the creature. The only difference with the real Nate Rivers was that this creature's eyes were blood red, not at all black or brown.

«Is it even more?» Near's voice whispered, but, somehow, despite the great distance, Raito heard everything perfectly. The demon's face looked at him sombrely, obviously expecting an answer. An answer that Raito hadn't even wanted to give to himself.

«What's the point of this?» Raito finally spoke, gesturing vaguely to his faded out surroundings and fighting to keep his tone even. «It's just a hallucination, anyway. No solid conclusion can be drawn from it.»

And then, just as he was about to elaborate, the Near-shaped demon in front of him turned around. But instead of seeing Near's back, as Raito had expected, Raito saw a horrible second face – like a second head – plastered on the back of the Near-demon's skull. Raito realized that, on the back, the Near-demon had black clothes instead of white. The second face was burnt and scarred, deformed to the point of plain disgust, and had red demonic eyes.

«Keep telling yourself that!» Raito had never met this man face to face, but he'd have recognized Mello's voice anywhere. «And you might convince yourself too! Ha! Haha! HAHAHA!» A voice which sounded nothing but 'mellow' muttered in mild paranoia, stuttering on the borderline between brilliance and psychosis. His teeth kept clattering, as though he wanted to bite or break something, but Raito ignored it.

Instead, he focused on the fact that this demon seemed to be half Near and half Mello. Was it infuriating irony, or a symbol meant to represent the fact that they'd been more powerful as a duo then as individuals? In any case, the sight was something out of a freakish novel, as though it were a teratogenesis.

But before Mello could say anything else, the demon's body twisted around again, and Raito was presented with Near once again. Belatedly, now seeing them both at the same time, despite his disquietude, Raito realized that each one of them carried a part of L inside them, just like Near had said back then. Near seemed like the more calculating, suspicious part of Ryuuzaki's mind, which always occupied itself with solving riddles and puzzles. Whereas Mello must be the aggressive part of Ryuuzaki, the part that made L fight back whenever Raito would try to hit him...the part that was rude and daring enough to illegally install sixty four cameras in an innocent Japanese citizen's bedroom, and wait for the kill.

Finally, unable to help himself, Raito exploded. He simply would not tolerate being told off face to face, after everything he'd been forced to persevere. Especially not by an L-wannabe.

«You may mock me,» he started with a glare, trying not to let himself start barking in ire «But you're not much better yourself.» he spoke through gritted teeth, finally unheeding of any kind of fear or restriction. What did he have to be afraid of, anyway? He'd been through all the worst, and he'd survived it. The worst that could happen was that he would relive it.

And now, ironically, after everything that had happened with the obvious intention to break him, he felt as though he'd been broken and reassembled again. But this time, the pieces that had comprised his mind before had now been rearranged in another way – a _better _way, he reminded himself – which allowed him to see certain scopes much more clearly and unrestrictedly than before. However, unfortunately, even though he'd learnt so much about himself and how much perseverance he was truly capable of...at the same time, he'd lost himself. He'd lost his understanding of justice: who was responsible for crime, victimization and punishment? Was Kira wrong of was he right? And worst of all, after seeing Kira's New World, he'd lost the very thing that made him click: his ideals. He didn't know what would be a better world anymore...!

Having managed to see a much bigger picture...ironically, now he was not only completely open-minded and prepared to draw new information like a sponge...he was also completely lost!

And now that the end was finally at hand, he didn't know if he could-

Raito held his ground, frowning. If someone even tried to compare him now with the snivelling creature that had cried for salvation in front of Ryuuku, then they'd believe he were a completely different man. Even though his ideals about justice had been completely shattered, reconstructed and overthrown again, a different kind of ideal had grown inside him. A different kind of hope, which gave him the will to fight: an ideal that he couldn't quite put to words, but stretched deep within his psyche.

Perhaps it was the undying drive, and the will to learn. To find the truth about justice. About Godhood. About the world. To find out, finally what makes this world tic, what creates crime and punishment...what kind of rules this universe follows, and how can it be constructed in a way that will make all humans...equal? If he could learn as much as he could, if he could one day achieve the method to construct a system of balance...then he would realize his ideal world. That was what he wanted now, regardless of using the Death Note to achieve it or not.

« Oh I don't doubt my horrid appearance, Yagami Raito.» the demon started, talking a step forward. «You're the one who created it, after all.»

Raito's thoughts started racing when he heard the demon's words, but he kept himself silent. How was it possible that he had 'made' this demon? Was this an allusion for something else, he asked himself. But then he reassured himself that the answers would come. The end was close...and he'd finally learn. It was happening – he could feel it, just as he'd felt he'd meet Misa!

In the end, there was only one question that had to be answered. One basic, maternal question, from which all others spawned:

«...why me?» he asked, scowling despite himself, «Was it because I used the Death Note? Because I killed people with these hands?» he queried, raising his hands as if to display them to the world. His voice was less angry than it should have been and more exasperated. «Is that why?»

«You give yourself too much credit, Yagami Raito.» Nate's calm, unperturbed face, and a muscle pumped in Raito's jaw. «But I've already shown you that.» After a pause to make Raito digest the strange new information, the demon spoke again, in a solid voice.

«At last, it is now time that we talk in terms of justice.»

Raito looked up stridently, his eyes wide. So soon...? But he hadn't expected -! And what would a 'talk in terms of justice' involve? No...anything but justice! It was the one thing he was unclear about! The one thing that he'd...grown to be afraid of. It could make him weak! He didn't dare say anything, however, as he realized the other was about to speak again.

«...and through this trial finally see to what extent Yagami Raito is suited to be... Shinigami.»

Shiniga...mi...?

And then, with a lift of the demon's hand, the world around Raito started changing again, morphing into something different. A new hallucination? A lie? ...another world?

Justice. Life. Death. Punishment.

'The person who uses the Death Note is doomed to misery and suffering…that's all I know.'

'_But who is more disgusting, Ryuuku? I, who kill to make the world a better place...or you, vile creature, who feed on people's lives?'_

'_Raito...you act more like a Shinigami than any Shinigami I've ever known...'_

Raito had always thought that...compared to that of other people...there had been a heat in his blood.

-

This time, he neither fell unconscious, nor woke up accompanied by confusion and fear. This time, Raito observed every single thing that happened around him. The image of Tokyo slipped from around his eyes, spinning like a vortex of wind, water and light, until the sense of space was lost.

Raito kept his eyes trained on the demon that was standing in front of him, motionless.

Shinigami. He'd guessed before that they might have some involvement in what was happening to him. At first he'd thought the entire process had been something as plebeian as Ryuuzaki's or Misa's revenge...Or even that he'd been sent to hell to repent for his supposed sins...

But now he came to understand, finally. The Siamese demon in front of him, half Near and half Mello, was staring at him from his 'Near' side. Finally, Raito realized where he'd seen those red eyes before, and felt his own face twist in an ironic, self-depreciating smile.

Shinigami.

Of course. Who else could have done something of this magnitude except them?

He'd been so involved with himself...he'd hardly realized that there may be other interests involved. After all, Ryuuku had said it quite clearly: '_when you will die, you will see...Mu' _And Ryuuku, despite as disgusting as creatures can get, had never made it his wont to lie...a lot.

But Raito had definitely not seen the 'nothingness' of 'Mu'. He'd seen torture, pain, screams...rapes...but not nothingness. Therefore...something must have gone wrong. Something about his soul must have been...problematic... so that he hadn't turned to nothingness when he died. If he had, then he wouldn't be able to think currently.

However...to turn into a Shinigami...to turn into the most disgusting, evil creature he'd ever seen in his life...why...how...when had this happened? Was this punishment for his sins?

Numbly, his head bent forward in pensiveness, and, as such, his eyes turned to stare downwards. He was surprised to notice that the ground beneath his feet, which had previously been the grey sidewalk, had now turned to graphite-coloured cement.

He raised his eyes immediately, to check if the demon was still in place. Indeed, he was standing just where he had been before, about six feet in front of Raito – with the only difference that the spinning lights around them had ceased their spectral dance and the environment had settled into a new landscape.

The landscape that Raito hated the most.

His reaction was completely uncontrollable, as he felt crystals of ice climbing over his skin. He looked at the orange colours of the sunset on the far right – the red sun was fading between the black skyscrapers, struggling to emit as much light as it could before it would be extinguished.

Fifty floors above the ground.

L's monolith.

Raito's heart was pounding, and he didn't dare look at the TV platform that he knew was located on the left. He had realized that he was at the Headquarters' building, standing on the roof. This was exactly the place...this was the exact same... as when he'd been thrown to...to...

However, as he struggled to keep himself calm and composed, he noticed the demon in front of him, who seemed completely unperturbed.

And then, finally, Raito also started to understand: the environment around him, which was constantly changing like a hallucination...was not real.

Raito didn't know where he really was, but... the top of the HQ building wasn't it. He was safe...this was probably just a tactic to try and terrify him, before the 'talk about justice' would even start. The demon probably knew that this place symbolized Raito's greatest fear...which was probably why he had selected it as a battleground – for whatever kind of battle was sure to follow.

When Raito had finally calmed down enough to be able to think clearly, he noticed that, even though there had always been Ryuuzaki's figure standing on this roof when he'd been thrown to the Hands, now there was only him and Near. L was nowhere to be found...wasn't this yet another indication that he would not be thrown to the Hands again?

« Not many humans have the courage to use the Killer book.» the demon's voice – Near's voice – suddenly spoke, and Raito immediately focused on the other. «And of those who do, very few stay sane until the end.»

It took a moment for Raito to realize the demon was commending him for using the Death Note. Why would the demon start praising him now, however? Was this some sort of effort to gain his sympathy...in that case, if they wanted his sympathy, they shouldn't have put him through all those nightmares before bringing him here.

However, thankfully and quite a bit ironically...all those nightmares had ended up making him a much more capable person.

In any case, he stayed silent, not antagonizing the demon and waiting for the other to speak.

«The time for thinking is over...now is the time to act.» Near spoke, and, immediately, like lightning, the demon in front of him turned around, displaying Mello's body instead of Near's.

«Indeed.» Mello spoke, and there was a paranoid glint in his eye. «Show us what you've decided.»

Raito was slightly confused. Was he expected to do something at this point? But how would he-? Then, something that the demon had said caught his attention.

«'The time for thinking' you said...? What 'thinking'?» he asked , in a flat impassive voice. But Mello spoke immediately.

«You look just like an idiot to me!» Mello spat, and Raito was slightly taken aback by the openness of that tone «What do you think you've been doing all this time?»

Raito was about to answer with his own brand of venom, but before he had the chance to speak, Near turned around again, hiding Mello from sight.

«As I said before,» Near repeated again, not adding much to what he had already stated but obviously preventing Mello from speaking any more. «This is the time we examine Death by terms of justice.»

What did the demon's words signify...? Raito stayed silent, gritting his teeth...even if he asked, he knew he would never get solid answers.

Suddenly, without saying another word, the demon waved his hand in a fluid motion and, right in front of Raito's eyes, there in the middle of the roof, a black table appeared, with a black chair in front of it.

On its flat parallelogram surface, as silent and deadly as any reaper's scythe, laid the Accursed book.

Raito's breath caught in his throat. The last time he'd set his eyes on it, he'd been dying – literally – of the need to use it. Writing in it was an addiction, he realized in retrospect. He'd been...obsessed with it. And now, seeing it after all this time...its black allure seduced him all over again, like a Siren's song, making him focus on it completely. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he temporarily couldn't think of any consequences, only the power...the...beauty.

«This is the Death Note» the demon's voice sounded, jerking Raito out of his reverie. Raito realized that, for a few impossible seconds, he'd almost forgotten the demon was even there and that he was living this awful hell. For a few seconds, he'd felt as though he was...alive again. That his existence had some purpose, except for living a nondescript, ordinary life...that he was destined for greatness: the greatness controlled by Go-

Then the demon spoke again, and with his words Raito's calmness ended, replaced by slight panic. «The tool used by Shinigami to kill humans.» Raito nodded at the demon's explanation, clenching his fists. He knew all this, so why was he being told all over again? Why was he being shown the Death Note now, when he knew nothing was real? What would he be-?

_Shinigami_

No...he couldn't let it happen!!

«Pay great attention now, Yagami Raito.» the demon said with his index finer raised, and his red eyes flashed hungrily as he uttered the man's name, as though eager to devour Raito's very essence. «You have the right to write only one name in this notebook. Only one.»

Raito nodded unconsciously, to signify he was listening carefully and understood what he was being told. Obviously, writing a name in this notebook was part of the new 'game' he was playing, whatever it was. Only this time, the stakes of the game were much higher...and there was the possibility that he would become a Shinigami...which was simply not an option. Even though he hadn't known that humans can become Gods of Death...and even though he'd once admired the power that Shinigami were able to wield...

To become like Ryuuku...a creature without purpose, or meaning...

'_No! Never!!'_

But before he could muse any longer on his fears and worries, the devil's voice interrupted again, and Near wiped his silvery hair away from his face.

«I will present you with three people.» the demon spoke, and Raito's heart immediately started falling, realizing where this was going. It was called a 'trial of justice' after all, wasn't it, he thought sourly.

«And you must choose who to kill.»

Raito closed his eyes, keeping them closed for a few moments and taking a deep inhale before he opened them again. This was not-

«Depending on the person you select...you will either become Shinigami or not.» the demon finished, speaking in a completely pacified tone, which, ironically, soothed Raito a bit when faced with such extremely high peril. At least the demon symbolized familiarity...and Raito needed familiarity when faced with a future as unknown and dire as this.

«Now mark my words of advice, Yagami Raito, and don't make me repeat them.» the demon said, with piercing eyes, and Raito's jaw clenched rather painfully as he realized his intelligence was being undermined. «I suggest you don't view this as a competition of win or lose. If you do...then you shall surely fall to unhappiness.» Near instructed, and his tone was completely neutral – neither hostile nor sympathetic. «Instead, think of this as a placement test. You shall feel peaceful whichever path you choose, because it will best represent your choices. If you become Shinigami...then that is the place that suits you best.»

Then, the demon motioned toward the chair in front of the table, as though urging Raito to walk forward. At the same time that Raito situated himself on the uncomfortable black chair, the other spoke again «If, on the other hand...» the demon gave a surreptitious small smirk, as though thinking that the possibility was not at all likely «you don't become Shinigami...then you shall also find the place that suits your soul.»

Raito nodded, mostly because he could do nothing else. After all this time of being forced around without help, obliged to undergo torture, it felt strange to have things explained to him, even a little. But of course, he wasn't willing to trust anything yet.

He was unsettled when the demon in front of him turned around again, to reveal Mello instead of Near. It was strange that these two could be stuck on the same body, since one was taller than the other in real life. Even so, however, somehow...they seemed to fit. Like pieces of a puzzle, they completed each other's problematic aspects.

And together, true to form, they could become Raito's worst nightmare.

Mello continued where Near had left off, obviously eager to speak to Raito after such a long period of silence. The man's dangly blonde hair and paranoid, constricted red pupils smirked cruelly at Raito, who tried to ignore everything and focus on the task at hand.

«The time has come, the time has come, the time has come...» Mello muttered, in a deranged, repetitive voice which Raito tried not to let affect him. Instead, he listened carefully for any clue in Mello's words, anything he could use to surmise what the right solution to the trial would be, the solution which wouldn't make him a Shinigami.

But then he remembered the Near-demon's words and realized that he was doing exactly what he'd been warned not to do: thinking of this as a right or wrong test. And even though Raito despised the idea of becoming a Shinigami with all his heart, he could also remember the good aspects of being a Shinigami, such as being immortal, being free to control the lives of humans...

Even if he did become a God of Death, he didn't necessarily have to become a useless, bored Shinigami. He could always use his power to improve justice and improve the human world.

And seeing as he had ignored Ryuuku's advice before, when Ryuuku had told him that Death Note users end up in misery, Raito decided that he should heed this kind of advice if he heard it again. Since the demon had said that Raito was bound to end up unhappy if he tried to 'win' this trial instead of simply follow his gut instincts...then, for once, he was willing to prioritize another being's advice over his own judgment.

After all, Ryuuku was living proof that being a Shinigami can be...fun?...Interesting? ...Painless?

But the more Raito considered it, the more depressing it seemed. And so, he stopped thinking about it altogether when Mello started speaking again.

«Now I'll show you three people...hehe...»he laughed with a sadistic chuckle, looking at Raito as though he was a pathetic worm. «And of these three you have to decide who to kill- You got that? Who to kill.» Mello repeated, giving emphasis and different inflection every time he repeated a phrase. «And I will present these three only once – once, I said once! – so take your chances.»

So Raito braced himself, dedicating all of his attention to the – no doubt tiresome in its repetitiveness – speech that would follow. However, fortunately for Raito's snapping nerves, the demon switched sides again, and Near appeared, who didn't seem to be half as frustrating as the other when giving long speeches.

So without preamble, the demon started talking, and Raito braced himself for the difficulty of the trial would follow, expecting to be unpleasantly surprised very soon. After all every time he dared to think that a challenge was easy...it turned out horribly difficult. So this time, he'd retain his judgment until the end.

«This is Yamada Sakura, maiden name Sawada» Near explained, in a loud voice. He motioned to his left with his hand, and Raito almost yelped as the image of a woman – just like a human statue – appeared in front of the table with the Death Note. The woman looked completely nondescript, with long black hair and a rather attractive face – and since Raito, who didn't really care for such trivialities, had noticed this, she must really be beautiful.

However, she seemed to enjoy wearing inordinate amounts of makeup – even more so than Misa, who'd at least had some taste when using beauty products on her face. She was dressed in a slightly provocative way, complete with short skirt and high heels, even though she seemed to be older than her late twenties . She obviously enjoyed men's attention...however, judging from Near's words, this woman must already be-

«Married Yamada Taichirou, a thirty-year-old businessman when she was nineteen, just to have an excuse to escape from the poverty of her home. Taichi and Sakura stayed had a daughter, Ayako, after one year of marriage.» Near continued, his face completely neutral. Raito braced himself, curious despite himself about the progress of this story.

« Taichirou was a kind and loving man, and he was gentle to his wife and child.» Near stayed expressionless, turning to look at the 'Sakura dummy' that he had appeared beside them on the roof. Raito stared at the demon expectantly.

«But he wasn't rich and ambitious, and Sakura felt she was wasting her potential with a man like him» Raito could already see where this was going «So, after thirteen years of marriage, his wife convinced him to create a life insurance of ten million yen in his daughter's name. And then, one year after he made the life insurance, Sakura poisoned him. She made it look like an accident, as though he was a victim of food poisoning. But what had actually happened was that she poisoned and murdered him.»

Raito turned to watch the 'Sakura Dummy' only to notice, to his complete disturbance, that the woman was actually smiling. She was smiling in that twisted, maniacal way.

The way of murderers, Raito thought, disgustedly. He'd seen that expression on his own face...

Near nodded slowly «And of course, after he died, his twelve-year old daughter Ayako received the ten million yen of life insurance. But since she was underage, she could not yet retrieve the actual money.»

Raito nodded, showing he was listening. Unprovoked murder of an innocent man for the sake of money. So far so good, he thought sarcastically. But this was nothing he hadn't seen before.

«A few years later, when the daughter Ayako was fifteen years old, Sakura met a new man called Yamaguchi Ryoutarou. He was attractive where he late husband had not been, but not particularly rich.» Near motioned on his left again and Raito was once again disturbed to see a human statue appear near him, standing next to Sakura's statue. The newcomer was the image of a man in his early thirties, with extravagantly expensive clothing and a tall, smug posture. Raito could see why Sakura would prefer this kind of partner after her previous husband. This Ryoutarou was probably the second man that Raito was supposed to judge.

«Finally, after a year of continued dating, during which the daughter Ayako had met and gotten along well with Ryoutarou, Sakura and her new companion decided to marry at last. In the meantime, Sakura instructed her daughter, who was now sixteen, to go retrieve her late father's life insurance money. In this way, ten million yen entered Ayako's bank account. The mother did not have direct access to the money, but at least the money existed in the daughter's name.»

Raito nodded, not seeing anything problematic so far, except for the fact that this marriage would be built on problematic values.

«However, once Sakura remarried, the situation within the house changed.» Near almost grinned in an uncharacteristic demonic grin «And Ryoutarou seemed to take a liking to the stepdaughter rather than the wife.» Raito saw the statue of Ryoutarou, situated a few feet nearby, smile in a decidedly perverted, and extremely disturbing way – just as the Sakura statue had before him.

«So he started courting the daughter, buying her gifts and so on, trying to seduce her when the mother was not at home.» Ryoutarou's statue grinned even more widely, and Raito was momentarily disgusted.

«But when he realized that the daughter wasn't interested in the conventional way, he raped her savagely.» Raito couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming, but it was just as horrible a notion nonetheless.

The demon continued immediately «After he raped her, the girl threatened to tell her mother everything, or flee the house in the next few days. Ryoutarou, having learned of the large sum of life insurance money kept in the girl's account, saw an opportunity to simultaneously rid himself of a pest and make himself rich.» Near nodded. However, suddenly, the demon switched sides, and Mello appeared in Near's place, smiling viciously with dilated pupils. Raito heard a disgruntled sound echo in his brain, as he realized that the narration would not go as smoothly as before.

«So he hired Kaidou. Kaidou! A specialist...a paid killer, if you prefer, to ice the girl for him and make it look like an accident.» The demon raised his hand for one last time and a third human statue appeared amongst them. The new man was tall and lean, with shoulder-length black hair much like Mikami's. In essence, this 'Kaidou's' gruff appearance was that of the quintessential hitman, a seemingly nondescript man who kills to get paid.

«So Kaidou indeed did the job» Mello smirked «And truly made it look like the girl had had a car accident, when he'd in fact murdered her. With her death, Ryoutarou and Sakura, the parents, inherited their daughter's life insurance of ten million yen.» This was shaping up to be quite the merry tale, Raito thought venomously, already feeling his temples pound in his head.

«But Kaidou wasn't an idiot. Before he did the job, he'd asked around to gather information. In this way, he'd found out about the life insurance money, and wanted it for himself. Himself! HA!» Mello accentuated with a slightly paranoid smile.

«So Kaidou approached Sakura, who was hardly as heartbroken as one would expect from her child's death, and seduced her, by convincing her he was rich, powerful and successful.» Mello nodded patronizingly «It didn't take much for Sakura, who was already getting tired of her new marriage, to fall madly in love with Kaidou.» Raito looked at the statue of Kaidou and saw a horrible smirk etched there, like a fox's grin.

«And so it took little for her to abandon her husband and, with Kaidou's help, steal all of the money from her daughter's life insurance from Ryoutarou.» Mello raised his hands in the air and cackled evilly «Of course, after she'd stolen the money for Kaidou, Kaidou stole the money from her and abandoned her, leaving her alone without a husband and without money.» Mello nodded with finality, and, completely unexpectedly, leaned forward, banging his palms on Raito's table, making the Death Note and the black fountain pen on the desktop shake.

«And so I ask you, Yagami Raito!» Raito's eyes narrowed at the barking voice, but he was still much too focused on processing the tale of horrors to react «Which one of these three deserves to die? Give me your answer and I shall see if you deserve to be a God of Death or not!»

Raito gulped silently, posing his face in a glare. The demon kept staring at him for a few minutes, and then leaned backwards. Finally, after a long staring contest, Mello spoke again.

«I will now leave you to decide...who should live or die.» Mello nodded with a smirk «But don't think that you can escape without making a choice. One of them has to die for sure...you can't try to let them all live. And also, one more thing...the only thing you are allowed to write on this Death Note is a name. Nothing more, nothing less.» The demon nodded again, and, with a whisk of black wind, vaporized from the atmosphere.

Raito was left there, looking at the open air. Then he turned around, staring at the unmoving statues of the three criminals.

At present, the only thing that he could hear in his mind was silence, and an impending sense of dread. And as the minutes wore on and he still could not find the answer, the feeling of dread worsened, and he felt his palms grow clammy with sweat.

It was impossible! Impossible!

All three of them...all three had...they were equally vile! It was technically impossible to separate one from the other.

Who deserves to die more?

The woman, Sakura, who'd killed her innocent first husband for the sake of money, put her own interests before those of her child when she married the disgusting Ryoutarou, stayed unmoved from her daughter's death, and was prepared to elope with a new man soon after her daughter had died, as long as the new man was rich.

And what to say of Ryoutarou, the despicable fashionista, who'd molested and raped a child of sixteen, then did not hesitate to arrange for the child to be killed and, after that, steal the child's money and live an untroubled life with his wife as though nothing had happened?

And last but not least, of course, comes Kaidou, the complete and utter slime, who was a paid murderer to begin with and who didn't hesitate to murder a sixteen year old girl when it suited him, not to complete his job but to secure that the girl's money could later be stolen. He seduced the girl's mother by pretending to be rich and then, after making the mother steal the money for him, he stole the money from her and abandoned her.

In Raito's eyes, they were all equal. And based on everything he had learned after his own stunning death, not only were they equal in crime but they were equal in punishment. Sakura, who had killed and rejected one husband after the other for the sake of money had finally found misery when rejected by Kaidou. Ryoutarou, who had been lusting over the daughter and finally forced to kill the object of his obsession, later also lost every semblance of comfort when the money was stolen for him.

In Raito's eyes, if there was one of them who seemed not to have been equally punished for their crime that was Kaidou, who was a paid killer, who had exploited the 'love' of a woman and who had finally received the money to live comfortably. Of course, being a murderer always involved a sense of misery in one's life, but, to Raito's eyes, it didn't seem as though this killer had been truly punished for his crime.

But on the other hand, Raito couldn't just go ahead and decide to wipe Kaidou out of the way. Kaidou's existence was important, in the sense that it made Ryoutarou's and Sakura's pain more intense. Sakura would feel ratified and avenged if Kaidou were to die after having left her, and Raito definitely didn't want her to feel less than absolutely miserable.

On the other hand, by killing either Ryoutarou or Sakura it would be just like lightening Kaidou's shoulders. Kaidou, a paid killer, would probably want to kill both Sakura and Ryoutarou very soon in order to wipe the slate clean and leave absolutely no witnesses about the larcenies of the life insurance money. Not that either Sakura or Ryouta would ever think of going to the police anyway, since they were both criminals as well...but Kaidou could never be sure of that, and he would want to murder them on his own.

These three were criminals who sullied society on the one hand, but on the other hand their death would hardly serve any purpose. There was no victim to wish for revenge, since Ayako was already dead. The three criminals were each other's victims, and in that sense they all deserved to live and be tortured by each other's existence.

In the end...Raito just couldn't see how he could eventually apply true, absolute justice in this situation. There was simply no way he could do it. He couldn't claim that one person deserved to die more than the others because of the severity or perversion of his crime, because all three of them had equally vicious records.

The next step to attributing justice would be to consider which one of these three would be likely to harm society again in the future. But the answer to that was, once more, inconclusive: it was possible that all three of them would harm society once again, but also possible that none of them would. Because Kaidou had now received a great sum of money, it was possible that he would retire from an occupation that risked his life – he would already have money anyway. In the same way, Sakura and Ryoutarou might or might not rape, murder, remarry and steal again.

On the one hand, if Raito could have had it in his own way...actually, if he could have it his own way...he didn't know what he would do. Kill all three of them? Kill no one? He wasn't sure what was right and what was wrong anymore...Besides, the demon had told him that he wasn't allowed to write anything on the Death Note except the name of a person. Or else he might have instructed the one person to kill the other two, and then die on his own by a heart attack.

But now, Raito wasn't at all sure of what he was supposed to do.

The way he saw it...there was no justice that could be attributed. Besides, what good does the Death Note do for justice? As he had learned in the New World he had seen, a criminal's death doesn't teach anyone a lesson – a criminal doesn't stop committing crimes after he dies. After a man's disappearance from life, what matters is the progress of those who remain. Society.

And no matter which of the three Raito would end up killing, society would still be in the same situation. Whoever he killed would pretty much be the same...the child rapist, the greedy murderess or the hitman? They were just as bad.

So Raito went to the next step of his reasoning, and wondered what human law would do. Probably, the sordid truth about these three people would never be discovered, and they would be allowed to live free – but miserable – for the rest of their lives. The idea disgusted Raito that criminals would be left on the loose amongst the innocent people in a society...

But on the other hand, as Ryuuzaki had kept telling him in their conversations about Shakespeare, justice can only be attributed when a crime is brought to the light. Raito had killed many people with the Death Note as Kira, that was true...but they were only the people that were captured or identified by the authorities.

In everyday society, unseen and unidentified, like Sakura, Kaidou and Ryouta, probably thousands of criminals exist. People with lives and stories so sordid that they could make a man's blood curdle.

And yet, what could justice do for the victims of these people? If the criminals have not been identified, then the victims have most obviously never gotten a chance to express their sorrow – probably already dead. And in that case, there was very little justice could do to 'justify' these victims.

What is the point of killing a criminal, when his death doesn't even benefit society? Because, as Raito had realized, killing criminals off still did not alleviate the human need for crime – which was an element born out of human nature. It's not like some people were born criminals and some weren't in this world. Every person has the capacity to commit a crime just as they have the capacity to remain innocent.

Killing them off in massive amounts will never work, Raito realized as an epiphany. One can't simply 'kill off evil'.

As long as humans exist, the capacity to kill, rape, steal, hate and hurt also exist. It's not as though society would be a better place if people like Sai were killed, because there is a Sai in all of us. The only difference is that some people are more eager than others to bring their malice outwards...

But that's a question of choice, not birth! How can it be said that society would be better with certain people dead, if it was impossible for Raito – for Kira – to be aware of every single crime at every single point in time? Evil can't be murdered without consequences – because when people are surrounded by killing, even the killing of killers – they grow accustomed to more killing. Raito remembered the two boys who'd been fighting in the park. Though they were fantasizing about a noble cause of killer a criminal...in the end...

Raito realized that, until now, he'd been thinking that he'd been committing a 'justified crime' as Kira. True, he'd been murdering people to stop the spread of evil. And he'd believed, just like a judge who afflicts the death penalty, that the act of murder was excusable for the judge, as long as it results in a safer and more peaceful society.

But it's different for a judge to decide the death of one or two criminals, and different for Kira to massively kill off large groups of people. If he'd kept killing them, based on the fact that there was hidden evil in every human...what would he have done in the end? Killed the whole world?

Killing them all is just...ultimately fruitless in terms of justice, just as it is in terms of their own conscience. Nothing is improved...nothing changes by killing. Rather than try to kill them all and display to the world a Killing Spree of Goodness – the very term seems contradictory – why not try to create a society in which _less_ and _less _people would be inclined to bring their criminal selves out in the open? Creating a society where there wouldn't _need_ to be crime – a society where people like Sakura wouldn't have to feel repressed or poor, a society where Kaidou wouldn't even dream of the option of killing people for money, a society where people could chose their partners not based only on good looks but other qualities also...

Why couldn't such a society be possible? Isn't this what Raito had wanted all along? But he was intelligent, and he knew more than anyone else that it was impossible to wipe out poverty, hunger, lust, needs. It was impossible to create complete balance out of complete imbalance.

But at least...couldn't there be another way than killing them all, and sending them to be tortured without even forcing them to change their conscience? A more effective way to change society for good? In retrospect...killing them off seems too easy, and it doesn't take a God to do it, even in massive amounts. If the legal system allowed it, then criminals would be executed in masses instead of imprisoned.

Trying to change them is what is truly hard. Raito didn't care about those who would die...he cared about those who would live – that had always been the case. So couldn't he finally find a way to create...to create...a Utopia...out of something degenerate?!

And if the issue had been about his personal pride once, then it wasn't any more. Because when one is alive, there are countless distractions: fame, glory, money, pride. There was Ryuuzaki, who Raito had wanted to defeat as a personal vendetta, there was Misa, who'd always been pestering him...all these mortal distractions took away from the idealism of the whole thing. But now, Raito was sure...if he put his mind to it, he could come up with a better, more permanent way to wipe crime away.

The humans themselves have made a conscious effort, by the construction of a common system – a base – to ordain a sense of unity and point of reference. Raito's problem with this system was that, ironically enough, his expectations of it were much too high, since he'd wanted it to offer all the answers and to relieve all problems. But was it really so crazy, so unjust, to feel disappointed by the fact that the system doesn't work? To see that people were still being harmed and that evil still reigned supreme?

Why must he accept either one of two extremes: either a justice which is futile and there can be no sense of equilibrium...or a justice that is absolute and is based on stale retribution? Retribution, punishment...was this really the answer?

«Well, have you reached your decision yet?» a rather bored voice suddenly echoed, and Raito raised his eyes to meet shining red orbs.

But whose red orbs?

«You know your time is passing Yagami Raito.»

«Ryuuku.» Raito spoke, and a small shiver ran down his spine as a wave of utter nostalgia – and anger – overcame him at the same time. The Shinigami hadn't changed a bit since the last time Raito had seen him. He still carried that sense of boredom. Even though Raito had only seen a jester before, a cruel vicious being that plays with human souls, now he could see something more. Wisdom...a wisdom that could not be expressed with words rested there, in those wide ugly eyes...

The knowledge...of the truth, about justice.

And even though Ryuuku had killed him, and showed him what it was like to die of the Death Note...showed him what it was like to feel pain...even so. Now, after the things Raito had learned about justice...it felt as though Ryuuku had not only taken something away from him...but given Raito something in return. Wisdom. Ryuuku had given him wisdom.

«Oh...is that how you see me now?» Ryuuku asked, and Raito stared at him for a few moments, confused.

«What do you mean?» he asked finally, letting his thoughts recede for a few moments.

«I told you before, Yagami Raito» Ryuuku spoke, and, for the first time, Raito noticed that even though this creature looked exactly like Ryuuku, it didn't speak like him... «You're the one who creates my appearance.»

«So...» Raito started, feeling an indiscernible sense of disappointment overcome him «So...you're still-?» he questioned, knowing the demon would understand. It was the very same demon who had looked like Near and Mello before...it was possibly the same demon that had always been there, from the start.

In fact, Raito had never seen another soul except a demon for all this time...could it be that it had always been the same demon?

«Have you made your choice?» the demon asked, moving around in Ryuuku's silver accessories and making Raito's skin curl from sheer deja-vu. He remembered countless days of sitting on a table, much like this one, with the Death Note spread open in front of him and Ryuuku hovering above his right shoulder.

He could remember writing names, countless names...faces, hearts...

'_Was it all for nothing...no...I'm sure...even if society didn't benefit from it...and even if I was not remembered as a great God at the end...at least it all happened for a reason: and if not for any other reason, it happened so that now, after all this time...I can think the way I do!'_ he thought, and took courage.

«You must decide.» Ryuuku's – or, more correctly, the demon's – voice rang, pressuring Raito to make a choice. And truth be told, Raito had not yet made this choice.

«Decide...» Raito repeated to himself, as though pondering the question, looking for a loophole.

«Decide which of the three you should kill.» Ryuuku specified, and hovered patiently over Raito. After having passed all this time without Ryuuku's presence, it now felt rather stifling – not to mention plain ominous, to have this monstrous Reaper hovering over him twenty four hours a day. How had he been able to withstand it?

Is this why it is said that those who wield the Death Notes are doomed to misery? Because they are followed by ghouls?

And now came the time that he was forced to choose, based on Justice...but...

In the end, he'd been disappointed by Justice, both that of others and Kira's own. If he had to choose the legal system that a God should employ, to his absolute shame, he would choose the one that currently existed in the world: the one where no God kills or cares about human justice and leaves the humans to their own devices. 'Let them find their own path.' That is the general idea that Raito had failed to see all this time...ironically, however, he must have known it all along since he'd seen that Ryuuku and the other Shinigami, who'd been all-powerful since the dawns of time, had never bothered to kill humans based on justice.

Or perhaps they had, and they had reached the same conclusions as Raito: the thing called absolute justice does not exist. Because justice and its needs varies from person to person, and a human may remember or consider things that another person may not even fathom. By doing justice to one man – by killing Kaidou and avenging the dead Ayako, for example – that may create injustice for another – for example, Kaidou's relatives or children, who supposedly don't know of his crimes. Doing one crime only creates another, until it becomes a chain reaction – Misa's family situation was a good example of this, in which Misa had gotten the will to kill criminals because a criminal had destroyed everything she'd loved. At first Raito had scorned the Shinigami for their disinterest in human affairs, considering them idle cowards who lack ambition...but now, after all this time...he could see the wisdom behind their acts. He could see...why a God would act in this way. Actually, the Shinigami only ever killed...when they needed to. When they needed lifespan in order to live...

Raito had adored the Death Note so much at first glance: because it was clean, and because no one could ever be blamed. By killing criminals silently with heart attacks, no one suspects a crime and there can be no chain reaction.

However, then the idea of Kira and the New World, as well as the crusade to defeat Ryuuzaki, had surfaced – primarily a manifestation of Raito's ambitions and secondarily an effort in society's best interests...The problem, therefore, was not the existence of the Death Note or the Shinigami themselves. It was the way that Raito had approached the subject. The way he'd rushed to wipe crime off the face of the Earth, when he could see now that the very idea was completely ludicrous. No one can wipe out crime as long as human beings exist...what can be done is to try and contain it, more for the ideal of justice than for anything else.

«Honestly, Ryuuku» Raito started, knowing but not caring that he wasn't really talking to Ryuuku. This was something that he needed to say out loud, in order to hear be said with his own ears «I don't see the direct point in killing any of these people. Perhaps...against my better judgment...putting them behind bars is the best punishment that can happen to them. Let them live without having the possibility of harming society.» he finally said it, feeling as though he had suddenly walked into a bizarre dream, where white had turned to black and vice versa...and, impossibly, this world made sense. It made complete sense.

The demon didn't answer anything, just kept staring with his red eyes.

«I don't know all the clauses...what about other people that I don't know about, who depend on these three here? And in any case it's impossible to select who to kill based on the severity of their crimes, because they are all equal, and they have all harmed and been harmed by one another... Their crimes have already been committed...and they are being punished. The way I see it...if one dies and so must the other two. » he concluded, shaking his head. His eyes moved fervently around, not focusing on anything as he tried to think.

«You must choose one.» the demon then spoke, shrugging «...it is the only way you're going to end this trial.» and with a motion of his hand, the demon made the Death Note in front of Raito flutter open to a completely blank page With the Death Note spread out like that, it was as though the pages were begging him to write...just one small word. One word that could wreak havoc...the power of words was absolute. Raito had always believed in it.

But as he sat there, looking at the crisp white sheets, Raito got a distinctly bad feeling. As though there was something about this object...something...that didn't quite meet the eye. As though, in its pages, more was hidden than paper and ink.

A notebook that can kill. Never before had Raito wondered what a book like this may be comprised of, or how it is made... and at what costs.

The more he now thought about who and what had created it, the less he wished to approach it.

«Choose one of the three, and write the name you see above their faces.» the demon instructed, and Raito raised his eyes to see clearly. But suddenly, for no reason, everything around him had turned...red?

He was seeing things in red. Until finally, his eyes focused on the faces of the three human statues in front of him. Above the three faces, with floating, shining white letters he saw three names written. And beneath the names, in vivid relief, Raito could see some numbers, which he could only guess were the remaining life spans of each person.

As if by some magic manner, Raito could somehow understand exactly what the numbers were saying, and that Sawada would die in sixteen years, nine months, thirteen days, eight hours and twenty eight minutes exactly.

Shinigami's eyes...for the first time in his life...he was now seeing through them. And by the numbers he saw, based on what Ryuuku had told him, he understood that if he killed Ryoutarou now, then, if he was a Shinigami, Raito would gain more lifespan.

But he wasn't a Shinigami.

Raito turned downwards, and, through the red colours that were filling his vision...he discerned his own hand.

His own...hand?

That's right...there weren't only three he could kill.

There was a fourth, called Yagami Raito.

Raito stared at his hand – at himself – then at the three people. Technically, in terms of justice alone, he was the greatest murderer of all. He had killed easily more than a hundred people – some of them innocents. In terms of justice alone...perhaps he should be the one to die.

'_But again, what good would that do? I'm already dead. What purpose of my existence will punishment serve...perhaps I'm here not to abandon myself, but to learn.'_

«Choose fast, human.» the demon beside him said, and his voice was much rougher now than before, since Raito had wasted time.

«But I don't see the point...I don't want to kill any of them.» he answered, fisting his hands and gritting his teeth «Killing them isn't going to undo what has been done...the victims will not feel ratified because they are already dead. Perhaps society will be harmed by them again in the future, but perhaps it may not...The only thing their death can bring is pain to the ones that care for them, and glee on behalf of the remaining two.»

He shook his head steadily to signify his exasperation, but the demon didn't seem to be acquiescing any time soon.

«If I decide to kill someone, it will be a choice based on randomness.» Raito nodded, trying to show that it wasn't his lack appetite to act, but his ideals. «But now, with these three, leaving them live is much more torturous for them than killing them. And since the future is unpredictable, it can never be said that one will harm society more than another!» Indeed, Raito thought that it was wiser to let them act by themselves, and wait for their own brand of justice to be brought to them.

In this kind of universe, which pits people against each other and turns victims into criminals and vice versa...it's impossible to ordain absolute justice!

And the same applied to himself, as well, if he was expected to kill himself. He couldn't believe what he was thinking – that he was passing on this chance to Judge dangerous criminals... and yet, as he said it... somehow, in some way he couldn't understand, after all this time of trying and failing to find justice...he'd found it, by accident.

«Don't tell me this, mortal!» The demon in Ryuuku's body suddenly shouted, banging two fists on the table with such force, that he left two indentations of fists on the black metal. Raito, taken aback and unprepared for this onslaught, keeling backwards. It was awkward to hear an irate voice but see Ryuuku's smiling face...But the demon continued.

«What I ask of you is only one thing: select a name and write it in the book. And then this trial shall end.» the demon stated, and floated backwards with Ryuuku's shredded wings. Raito shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, suppressing a sigh.

What kind of stupid trial was this, anyway? Hadn't he already made his choice...Hadn't he?

But the unforgiving eyes of the demon stared at him, as though trying to dare him. And Raito could understand why. Because it was strange that Raito, the great Kira, who had killed countless people without batting a single eyelash, was now hesitating over one single name.

And yet, Raito remembered the inevitability of it. The fact that once a name is written, it cannot be erased. When a man is Marked for Death, he cannot be unmarked. And when your heart starts trembling, and the pain cripples you, and you know that it won't stop until you- He couldn't wish that on anyone...not even a criminal like this!

«Choose, Yagami Raito...» the demon's voice echoed roughly around «And if you don't choose now you'll be sent back...to experience the trial for eternity, until you are prepared to make the choice.» the sober tone unsettled Raito...The 'whole trial'...did that mean that everything he had experienced...everything he'd lived and learned...everything was...a unity?

The Hands...the interrogation...the rapes...everything?

In any case...if he took the demon's words at face value, then it was possible that he would be stranded here, without answers, for the rest of a bitter eternity. It was entirely possible that the humans and situations that were being mentioned here were not at all realistic...

Perhaps...perhaps he should simply choose. If that meant getting the answers...if it meant breaking free, then...But how to choose? Choose in terms of justice...but justice would not be attributed, even if he did kill one of these people...

«Very well» Raito finally decided, and stretched his hand forward beneath the devil's watchful eyes. He picked up the fountain pen, and was surprised by how heavy it felt in his hand – as though he were picking up not a single pen, but a dozen of them at the same time. His red vision was confusing him a bit, seeing as he kept seeing light hues blending in each other, but he could see the Death Note itself clearly enough. «I'll do what you ask of me.»

Even if he killed one of them at random, it would be exactly the same.

And so he wrote, with his characteristic precise, pointy scripture, Kaidou's name. Every single stroke of the accursed kanji was heavier than the other, and with every second that passed, Raito had the illusion that it was this person's life that was bringing heaviness to his pen.

A person's life was failing now, just because of something Raito had written, miles and miles away. Without knowing Kaidou, without knowing exactly why he'd done the things he'd done, whether he was malicious or not.

Finally, when Raito had finished, he felt a deep exhaustion overcome him. He stood up from the chair and moved away, turning his head from the demon. Forty seconds later, nothing happened around them. Raito turned around, slightly surprised, but saw that the statues of the three people had disappeared. The only thing that was left now was the table, the Death Note and the demon, which was looking at Raito with wide eyes.

And as for Raito himself, his right hand, the hand that had written in the notebook, felt as though it was made of led. Unconsciously, he remembered the way his own name had looked on the notebook when Ryuuku had written it, and he heaved a great sigh. Then, the demon's voice sliced into his thoughts.

«Congratulations.» the Shinigami-shaped devil said looking at Raito with the ever-present smile. The only difference was that, this time, the smile seemed much more gleeful than usual «You've become a Shinigami.»

Raito felt his insides convulse and freeze. But then, as he watched the demon's face, he realized there was nothing he could have done anyway. The demon had been sure that Raito would become a God of Death right from the start, and Raito had realized it immediately.

«It's fine.» Raito said, and, unexplainably, something behind his eyes began to sting. He imagined himself like Ryuuku, an ugly, deformed ghoul with nowhere to call home, roaming the streets with naught but a notebook for company. His only ability would be death, from now on...and there was nothing he could do to change. «I already thought so.»

The demon nodded his head fervently, floating across the roof of the HQ building and then back to Raito's side. Raito appreciated the irony of a Ryuuku-shaped demon flying beside him. He supposed he ought to get used to it from now on...after all, he was going to be seeing a lot more of the Shinigami world, with its wrinkled apples and passive residents, than he ever thought he would.

And, since no Shinigami Raito had ever known had remembered their lives as humans...he supposed that he'd lose all his memories in order to be transformed into a...a...beast. He'd never think of how stupid and annoying Misa was, anymore. He'd never get to make fun of Ryuuzaki's incurable sugar addiction...In fact...he'd never get to see Ryuuzaki...or be able to speak to any other human...ever again. And even though he'd guessed that before...now it was becoming more pronounced, and more painful.

«So what do I do now?» Raito asked, trying not to let his voice crack. Thankfully, the demon beside him seemed not to notice.

«Now you wait...until your transformation is complete.» the demon sounded more cheerful than Raito had ever heard him.

'_Transformation.'_

So they waited, and waited. Hours and hours of waiting, until Raito became restless. Nothing was happening, as far as he could tell. He was still the same old Raito...which was a good sign, on the one hand...but on the other... the agony was crippling him! He wished that it could just be over, and then he'd at least forget everything...but-

«What?» a voice suddenly echoed a fair distance on Raito's left. Raito turned to see the demon, shaped exactly like Ryuuku, blink questioningly at something. Raito followed the other's glance and turned to see, to his utter astonishment, that the television aerial on the roof – the retched thing where Raito had stepped all those times, was shaking precariously on its own, all of a sudden.

«What's going on?» Raito asked, confused and terrified by the onslaught of memories this brought. The demon stayed silent for a few moments, and then, quietly, he turned back towards Raito again.

«It seems...as though I was mistaken.» he finished, and Raito could feel a hoarse beat, like the stampede of animals in a jungle, initiate in his chest. «You...Yagami Raito...are not a Shinigami after all...»The frantic flames of hope were easy to rekindle, and his heart was almost bursting by the sheer force of his pulse.

Raito stared at the demon, with his teeth chattering uncontrollably and his extremities feeling completely cold.

«But...» he started, unable to stop himself «But...why? I thought...» he asked, unable to contain the tone of enthusiasm in his voice.

But instead of speaking, the demon shook his head, and Raito thought that he detected a hue of dejection in the red eyes, as though the other was disappointed that Raito hadn't become a God of Death after all.

But Raito would not let it pass without an explanation this time, so he ran forward, near the demon. And with his eyes narrowed he asked, solidly.

«Why...?» he queried, preventing himself from grabbing the demon's arm. «I killed him...didn't I?» he asked, expecting some answers.

The demon turned to him, slowly. «Yes» he started, with his ruby eyes dull «But '_why_' did you kill him.» he stared at Raito, with piercing eyes. Raito compelled to find an answer, stated his cause.

«Because, out of the three of them, his existence had been the one to facilitate the daughter's death – the fact that people like Ryouta can call people like Kaidou when they want to murder someone…is the greatest problem of all! Crimes of passion, like those of Ryouta and Sakura...cannot be contained. But killing innocent people like Ayako as an occupation is unacceptable...at least in my eyes... This profession is...a source of problems for society.» Raito defended, and finally, he gave the most prominent reason «And...basically, the reason why I killed him...is that I believe it was unjust that despite committing the most murders, he was allowed to take the money and live comfortably in the end...that's why...in my personal opinion...he's the one that should die.»

«That's exactly the point.» the Ryuuku's voice said, and Raito stared at him questioningly. So the demon continued « You say 'the one who should die'...But when you told me that you understood justice was futile...I believed that you'd come to understand the world the way Shinigami do.» the demon finished, and his hostile eyes turned away, as though to reminisce «Shinigami don't understand what the humans call 'justice'...they kill at random, without judgment. 'Should die' does not exist for Shinigami.»

So that was why... So Justice wasn't futile, Raito felt something lighten in his heart at this thought. Justice did exist!

As long as someone waited for it, wished for it...justice would be here! Even if it wasn't absolute...even if it was futile and wouldn't manage to redeem society...in order to remain human...a person must believe in justice, believe that, despite all appearances of the contrary, there must _still_ be _some_ way in which people could feel justified, people could live a better life!

Justice may not be absolute...and an act of justice may not ratify every wrong...but at least the intention was there! The intention to help, to improve...to justify, to respect, to honour people! That wish had always been with Raito – his ideal world – and as such...it was impossible for him to become a Shinigami.

Then the demon turned toward the quiet Raito again «Haven't you ever wondered why Shinigami die when they kill for a human they love...?»

Raito paused to think about it for a second, and a light of understanding suddenly dawned in his eyes as he turned to look at the demon, who continued speaking.

«Because a Shinigami cannot remain a Shinigami if he kills subjectively – if kills for a reason other than his own survival. At first, when you spoke, I was certain you were going to become Shinigami because of your understanding of the futility of this...this...'justice' that humans have. When you killed the man, I supposed you were killing at random. But it turns out, you...you worked with an opinion.» the demon looked pointedly at Raito, and Raito thought that they other seemed somewhat...rejected, if that was even possible. «You killed because of a reason – your personal reason, regardless if it's right or wring. You care too much, when you kill...that's something that humans do, not Shinigami... And so, that's why...»

« You say that only humans think this way, not Shinigami...I wonder if that means that when Shinigami die because of love...they turn into humans?» Raito started quietly, and saw the demon's surprised, bewildered eyes as they looked at him. Obviously, the demon hadn't expected Raito to think or surmise anything like this.

Well at least, the fact that Raito had not turned into a Shinigami meant that, despite the fact that he couldn't clearly understand the meaning of this...'love'...he at least had a chance at learning.

After a few moments, Raito spoke again, with his eyes a bit lowered. his tone rather pensive «You...You're a Shinigami...aren't you?»

A few seconds after he'd said it, the demon turned towards him with wide eyes. And then, a few moments later, the creature's started to change again, transforming into something new.

Raito watched, bewildered, as the world around him spiralled madly for the second time, twisting into new shapes and figures. Until the roof of the HQ building had disappeared, and instead of the skyscrapers of Tokyo, Raito could now see wooden logs around him, as though he were located in a crumbling wooden hut of some sort. There was a small door on the side of the cabin, which was closed firmly.

He'd never seen this place before in his real life...this couldn't be another of his hallucinations. It was something...completely new...

Could it be that this...was...

He was...out...? Out of that hellish place?!

But he didn't manage to rejoice about this for long, because when he turned around to look at the demon again, his voice caught at his throat. It was a...a...a walking corpse, a Shinigami if Raito had ever seen one, disgusting and monstrous at the same time, with that awful slimy green skin and disgusting liquid appearance.

«My name is Leeru» the Shinigami answered, and Raito stared, completely aghast. Thankfully, he'd met a Shinigami before, so he wasn't as surprised as he could have been. He had a thousand questions he wanted to ask, so he started from the most prominent one.

«So...this...this...everything that I went through ever since I...died...that was...?» the man asked, overwhelmed.

«The Trial of Souls» the Shinigami Leeru responded, with his filthy fingers stretching to point towards Raito's chest «Which is undergone, sooner or later, by all the souls who have used the Death Note in their lives.» he answered, and Raito waited patiently for the other to elaborate. When he realized that the God of Death would not speak again, however, he decided to pose his own questions.

«So...what exactly is this...'trial of souls'?» the man inquired, with narrowed eyes. Whatever it was, he privately thought, he was glad it was over – _if_ it was over, since Raito wasn't sure, even now.

«Basically» Leeru started, with his slimy red skin – the skin of a corpse which was drowned in a river, with weed on its head «When a human dies – they must be sent to Mu...Mu does not exist in the human world...it is the place where the minds of all humans join, to create all the dead and lost parts of the human world. But most humans can't go there immediately.»

Raito remembered what this 'Mu' place was. There was a rule in the Death Note that instructed that when humans die, they go to a place of non-existence, a place called 'Mu'.

«Since they were in the mortal world, humans were trapped in their own body.» Leeru explained, waving jell-like hands around and testing Raito's stomach «When they die, they are still trapped in their own mind – all the fears, aspirations, guilt, or subconscious thoughts that the carried ever since they were alive...»

Raito nodded, wondering what this had to do with his own trial. However, Leeru wasn't yet finished.

«When, after death, a human is able to escape the confines of his mind – face his fears, learn something new, know himself better – then he can finally enter Mu, and let his mind and experience join that of the others.» Leeru explained, nodding as though to emphasize his point, beady red eyes shining and reminding Raito of things he'd rather keep forgotten.

«And how is the trial of souls different from the trial that any other human undergoes?» Raito asked the question that had been plaguing him all along.

«Hmm..» Leeru remarked, with thoughtful eyes «humans these days have grown persistent...but I suppose it's logical, considering everything.» The Shinigami nodded to himself, and Raito waited patiently, trying not to tap his foot on the floor, or cross his hands, or something to that effect by his impatience to learn the answer.

Then, finally, Leeru spoke again. «A soul that has used the Death Note, like all others, will eventually go to Mu. The only difference is that the process is usually much more prolonged, since the Shinigami like to keep these souls in their world for a long time...» he explained « But eventually, the soul must face its own trial. And the Trial of Souls is the same as any other trial, where the human must escape the confines of his own mind...the only difference with all other trials is that there is a Shinigami in the trial to inspect the human...and that the human has a chance: either to become Shinigami, or to remain human and go to Mu.»

«So when a human does enter Mu» Raito asked, still trying to accept the fact that everything he'd seen in this so-called 'trial' was a product, a manifestation of his own brain and symbolized his guilt, or conscience, or fear. «What happens to him? Does he...stop existing?

«I don't know what happens in Mu...except that it is the place of non-existence and the place where minds join. No Shinigami is ever allowed there. Because we don't have a soul to lose...» a chill climbed up Raito's spine as he realized the fate he had narrowly missed. After a few moments, Leeru raised a hand and pointed a finger at the closed door of the cabin «That is the entrance to Mu...the rest is up to-«

«Wait» Raito called, as he realized that the other was preparing to leave without a further explanation «Wait!» he repeated, for emphasis, since he didn't want to touch Leeru's arm to stop him. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he wanted to prolong facing that door...wanted to draw as much information as possible from this Shinigami, before the end.

«I want to ask you...why were you so sure I would become a Shinigami?» he asked, with a furrowed brow. «Answer me this, and I'll be at peace.» he added, just to emphasize how important this question was to him.

Leeru's red eyes seemed to way the human up and down, until finally, he answered «Because most humans do...especially those who use the Death Note and like to kill other humans.»

'_Like to kill'_

The Shinigami said it so suddenly that it shocked Raito to the core...but it was true, wasn't it? Deep down, when he'd been Kira...he'd...liked to use the Death Note as frequently and as intensely as possible. However, having it said to his face so-

«When they face their trials, most humans change. Some part of them becomes different...and since each trial is specific to each person, most humans find it difficult to recover from a great blow to something they considered important before. And so, they learn to understand the world like Shinigami do. I guess that's why...» Leeru nodded again to himself, and this time, as he started walking away, Raito didn't call for him to stop this time.

Finally when he saw Leeru's slimy body start floating, as though ready to fly away – although Raito couldn't fathom where the Shinigami would go – he said something again.

«Do you know Ryuuku?» he finally asked, and was slightly amused as he saw the slight perturbance in Leeru's face at the mention of Ryuuku's name « He's a friend of mine.» Raito spoke, thinking that nothing could be further and closer to the truth at the same time «So tell him...tell him I... said hi.» he finished, nodding. There were a million things Raito wanted to say to that jester Reaper, most of them unpleasant for having tricked and killed him...but some of them thankful, for having made him...a better – a more just – man.

Leeru also nodded.

And then, before Raito's very eyes, Leeru's whole body seemed to evaporate, shining in a cloud of black dust. Until finally, he disappeared.

And this was how Raito was left alone in the wooden cabin. Alone with the door, which would lead him to Mu, where all humans go after they die. But what would that place be...would he...evaporate? Would he stop existing?

And all the discoveries he'd made...would they accumulate to nothing?

Raito's hand clasped the handle of the wooden door, nervously settling his fingers upon it. Then, he took a deep breath, and remembered what the demon shaped like Near, or, more precisely, Leeru, had said.

Even if he didn't become a Shinigami...then he would surely go to the place that most suited him. And if non-existence was it, then...then he hadn't gone through that entire trial in vein! At least he'd become...he'd become...something different, something more evolved...something better than what he had been when he'd started.

And perhaps for the first time in so long, that deep, unfulfilled and abstract cave inside of Raito was starting to fill, by some strange power. As though he was taking strength from something that he didn't even know – some conviction, some belief...

They say there are three values by with the universe is ruled: fortune, need and order. In all his life, he'd strived for the last two...but he'd never taken into account the first. And even so, he who had been so careful to create order where there seemingly could be none, had suddenly, by a stroke of fortune, found his existence more disorganized than ever.

And as his need to find his old order propelled him forward, there was something born – something deep inside him.

When Yagami Raito – when Kira – died, a man with very solid ideals was lost. At first, something had been withdrawn from Raito...but eventually, that empty space was filled by something new. Something he could not quite place. But finally, he'd found new alternative solutions to old problems, he'd found answers.

During life, he'd always been an idealist, and always strived to make the world a better place. However, in retrospect, he could now see the damage that the Death Note had done to his ideas. Basically...when he'd touched the Death Note…he'd lost sight of his goal.

Along with the Death Note – the force of fortune – new needs were born. And Raito was forced to find order for these needs. And become Kira. And lose sight of the basic objective – to retain justice at all costs.

But now, in retrospect, he was still glad – just as glad as he'd always been – that he'd been given the Death Note. The Death Note was the greatest gift that had ever been given to him, because without it, now he wouldn't be here. He wouldn't have the will to discover and learn – he wouldn't be able to understand the concept of justice.

Without the Death Note, he would never have been Kira. And without being Kira, without working for his ideal, without making mistakes as well as correct actions...without what he was yesterday, he could never be what he is today.

So he did not regret being Kira, and he did not regret using the Death Note, meeting Ryuuku, and seeing the kind of greatness that other humans have never seen in their entire lives. But he did regret becoming sidetracked from his goal and focusing on becoming a God, he did regret becoming obsessed with eliminating the ones who didn't agree with him...he did regret leading Misa to believe that he would love her if she chopped up her lifespan, even though he knew he would never love her.

He understood, now, the question that had plagued him about the tragedy that had befallen both Misa and himself. Neither of them could stop the universe – the fortune – from making Misa love him...nor could they make Raito love her in return. And the sense of manipulation, of panic, of torture that had followed...it was all a result of this twisted status quo, for which neither was responsible.

Raito respected what he'd been back then...because back then he hadn't known any better.

And in order to become something better tomorrow…it is a prerequisite that one respects what he was until yesterday. And now, fortune had created new needs, and the achievement of these needs required order. Ironically, Raito had now achieved order once more, this time not by narrowing but by broadening his horizons. The person he was until yesterday – that person who had his own brand of beauty – was now transforming into something new.

The true idealist. A man who's focused, precise, clear about his goals. Who had no death or demons to fear any longer…who could exercise his ideals constantly without becoming sidetracked.

With one sudden lurch, he jerked the door open.

No sooner had he pulled the plank of wood apart than he was blinded by absolute, extreme,

_Light_.

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**(1) there is an expression in Japanese called 'baka-sojiki', which means exactly 'honest to the point of idiocy / so honest that can be easily manipulated'. And since I've been consistently trying in this fanfic to immitate the Japanese way of speaking – even if I'm writing in English – I've tried to express this phrase as well.**

**(2) I'm sorry if this offends anyone. This is said from Raito's POV, and it's designed to emphasize a point. I am not trying to insult anyone's religion or imply (in any way) that the parable of Adam and Eve in the Bible is erroneous. This fic is just a collection of philosophical questions, and since, at this point, the story of Adam and Eve seemed fitting to instigate Raito's thoughts, I used it. I'm not worried, however, since I know that people who like yaoi tend to be more open-minded about things in general. In any case, if I offended anybody, please tell me and I'll do my best to make it up to you.**

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**I hope everyone liked the conclusion of the trial!**

**I thought that I'd make Raito not kill anyone in the end, but that ending sounded extremely cliché. Besides, the whole trial was supposedly taking place in Raito's mind, so I eventually decided that a conflict of Shinigami values and human values was in order, even if it involved a mandatory killing.**

**I think I made it clear in the end that, despite not being OOC and not regretting being Kira, or thinking himself absolutely guilty for everything that has happened, Raito has changed. He's become more human, and much more open-minded, as well as prepared to see things from different POVs.**

**Also, if some of the philosophic points about justice/crime/punishment etc. are not perfect, please pardon me. I don't take philosophy as a class, so I don't know the best way to talk about these issues, or if the arguments are valid. That's why I need your help to ascertain it!**

**In any case, whatever the problems with the philosophical arguments (which I will tinker with in the future) I hope that the theme of the novel became clear: the quest for justice never ends, and if we accept to be fatalistic about justice, like the Shinigami have, then the world will never progress. What Raito did by killing people was a failure, but Raito is a sympathetic character because he had the **_**will**_** to help people. There is emphasis on human thought, human justice and human perception in the fic. DN did not include a God anywhere, and the atmosphere of DN is atheistic…so I tried to keep everything from a human perspective.**

**In the future chapters, I hope that I will retain and augment these themes!**

**This is officially the second to last chapter of solo!Raito. In the end of chapter twelve there is a spark, and in chapter thirteen the romance officially starts.**

**Please send me your feedback! Now that I'm working on this fic twenty four hours a day (no kidding), I need all the support I can get! And since I can't show it to my dad (the eternal curse of yaoi) you guys are all I've got!**

**So drop me a line and tell me what you think!**


	12. Muddled Musings

**HiYAA!! It's me again. Obviously, I don't have to tell you that my sacred oath to finish the fic by the end of July has failed(!) I'm very sorry! I really tried, and I truly was working on it day and night! **

**Until finally, my brain kind of just...exploded! I hit a writer's block the size of Mt Everest! I'm serious! And even now I'm not sure I'm actually satisfied with what I've created in this chapter!**

**I hope everyone likes it – I tried to make it piquant and keep the anxiety of the readers going until the very end. Writing this chapter was pure torture, to put it simply. This was because I was too impatient to get to the end of it that I kept missing the point and having to rewrite things!**

**Please excuse the multiple errors that I'm sure are everywhere in the text! I'm looking for a new beta now, so that I'll avoid as many errors as I can!**

**I hope you enjoy this! And I promise I'll do my very best for the next update to come much faster than this.**

**(OMG I can't believe I got all those reviews! This story has the most reviews I've ever gotten!! Thank you! And the funny thing is that I always thought I'd get no reviews for this!)**

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**Muddled Musings **

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«This is...Mu...» Raito muttered, his tone a fusion of disbelief and surprise as he stepped forward, dragging his feet over the pebbles and red dust of the soil. Right now, though, he couldn't care less about the friction between his shoes and the dirt, since he was too preoccupied with the horizon to pay attention to the ground.

The intense light which had blinded him was only starting to fade, and the illumination still made it hard for Raito to discern his environment, since the light made the edges of objects seem vague and crude. And so, Raito dared to take a few more steps outside the wooden cabin, staring around with inadvertent wonder as the image of this Brave New World settled in. And what a world it was.

At this point, there was no helping it. Raito's jaws dropped open slightly, unprepared as he was for the sight that greeted him. He didn't know what he'd been expecting: some Ghost Town, perhaps...or an abandoned desert of some sort. At least this was the way he'd imagine the world of the Shinigami to be, based on Ryuuku's descriptions.

And now, just below the small hill he was standing on, as far as the eye could see, stretching deep into the edges of stereoscopic vision, was a throng – a huge, never ending crowd – of people.

Presently, Raito was standing on the top of a small hill, upon which a few wooden huts – including the one he'd just exited – were situated. From up here he had an incredible view and could observe the heads of millions of people – like little coloured spots – in front of him. Seeing such a great gathering was a tad intimidating, especially since all these people seemed to have no unity in any way. They were dressed in any kind of strange attire the human mind can fathom and, when combined together, looked like a huge cosplay group – each person so different from the other that they all created a discordant melody. Raito's eyes widened involuntarily as he even caught sight of what looked like a Roman soldier walking around the grounds...and the rusty armour looked like the real thing, not like cosplay.

Were all these people...dead? Like...Raito? And these Romans...had they stayed here in Mu for entire millenniums...would Raito...have the same fate? He felt a chill run up his spine at the sheer thought of it.

And strangely, very few of all these people were talking to each other. In fact, as Raito stood there at the top of the hill, there was a strange, bizarre silence stretching over the valley in front of him...as though the sound was muted. In fact, only now and then Raito thought he heard a sound, like some kind of shriek or siren, ring upwards from the crowd. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It felt...the whole atmosphere of silence, despite the huge gathering...as though they were all...ghosts.

'_Well technically, that's what they are...' _Raito thought before he could stop himself, and immediately a chill ran down his spine '_And I'm one of them.'_

People, people and more people, walking, running...but not talking...Raito, who had spent so much time isolated and without any other real soul – except his own hallucinations – to communicate with, now felt overwhelmed at the concentration of all these humans, who he could surmise were not at all hallucinations...they looked autonomous. And quite real. He suddenly felt extremely exposed, standing there in plain sight, probably sticking out like a sore thumb. Even though no one seemed to be looking at him, Raito suddenly longed for the quiet reassurance of his isolation.

But, despite his unwarranted and inexplicable feeling of self-consciousness and annoyance, he couldn't ignore the fact that there were no monsters coming to chase him and no one trying to force him into undergoing tremendous pain...he supposed the panic was...over? This realization after so much time, was crippling in its force. Even if this place, Mu, eventually turned out to be the worst place he had ever been in, the fact that it was real alleviated most of his irritation. But even so, all the time he'd spent in the Trial of Souls had taught him never to make assumptions without knowing all the facts. Truth be told, unfortunately, he knew nothing about the nature of this world of Mu...he shouldn't assume that the panic was completely over without knowing all the facts first.

Even though there were no visible monsters around, Raito was not yet prepared to let his guard down. After all, the worst kind of monster is the one that catches one unawares.

Raito forgot about the humans for a moment, focusing instead on the environment. In front of him stretched a huge, pit-like valley, where all the humans were assembled. The hill that Raito was standing on, on closer inspection, looked less like a hill and more like an ancient tomb – the kind of tomb where great amounts of soil are thrown to cover the structure. Raito turned around to look at the hut he'd just exited, and was surprised to notice that, all around him, there were various other 'hill-like' tombs, all with huts on top of them. And curiously enough, some of these hills had a single person standing on them, with the door of the wooden hut open, staring around curiously, looking overwhelmed.

Raito wondered if these other people standing on hills were just like him: had they just arrived here? It certainly seemed so, judging from the confused expressions on their faces.

The plane in front of Raito, the one where people were gathered, looked like a desert – a desert full of pathetic little ants, humans. And, since the sky was filled with the orange-blue hues of sunset, Raito felt a shiver run up his spine. It didn't only look like a desert, but it felt like a desert as well, even though it was full of people instead of grains of sand. But even though the world seemed dark, as though a dark cloud of burgundy rust was over their heads, the light of the sun – if there even was a sun, Raito wondered, as he tried to check the sky – was still here, discreet and light orange as it illuminated the fancy white robes of Arab women who passed.

But it wasn't a desert in the conventional sense, since it didn't only include flat planes. Perhaps the most genuinely terrifying, absolutely crippling part of all was that, jutting out haphazardly from the desert in front of Raito, surrounded by the endless crowd of people, were buildings.

Raito felt his innards freeze as he recognized the shape of the twin World Trade Centre towers, piercing like pillars of ice through the horizon in the distance – looming ominously over the crowds. The man was left speechless for a few moments, staring at the buildings at a loss. Hadn't they been...? He noticed that, even thought they had the normal shape and height of the Twin Towers he remembered, they didn't have the same...colour, or material.

Judging from their warm orange and brown colour, these Towers, in Mu, were comprised by...rust. Raito observed the other buildings around, recognizing a Byzantine-looking palace structure, a cowboy ranch, and even a concentration of rust-coloured wooden huts. He thought he managed to recognize the ruins of an ancient Buddhist temple... but overall, judging by their pathetic appearance, all these structures looked like utter ruins. But as Raito stared at them, trying to observe them in greater detail, he gasped.

Could it be...? He wondered, the wildness of the idea overcoming his brain. Could it be that not only dead humans come here in Mu...but...'dead' buildings as well? Of course, at first sight, there was no way these buildings could serve as functional places, seeing as they even seemed to originate from different eras...but their presence, strong and overpowering, gave this place a sense of...geography...The geography of ruins. The atmosphere seemed even more oppressive now than before, and Raito felt a very keen frost grip his heart as he evaluated the situation.

Despite the warm colours around him, the only thing he could see was a mass of...obviously dead humans, moving mechanically like zombies, without speaking to each other...roaming around in a land covered by...dead buildings.

Everything around him was...dead. Raito couldn't help but wonder if the buildings were here to accentuate the nature of the people: crumbling, rusty, silent...and forgotten by those who live.

There was some new coldness in Raito's veins now, as he realized that, indeed, he hadn't found his long-awaited nirvana after all. Despite all the trials he'd faced...

Of course, perhaps his sadness could be due to his active realization – which hadn't really happened until now – that he truly, indisputably and honestly was...dead to the world. Of course, he'd already theoretically known this, but it was difficult for one to feel dead when their consciousness is still alive. And yet, now that the gruesome vision was set in front of his eyes, Raito could see the morbid truth: alive, yet dead. All these people...obviously had no purpose.

Raito turned backwards, looking at the small wooden hut, with its door barely staying on its hinges, which looked darker and more desolate the further away he walked – an unpleasant memory of the horror he'd experienced. Looking around now, in the distance, he could see more of these huts around him, some of them in the valley amongst the ground, some elevated on hills, like Raito's had been.

Were these huts...channels? Channels out of which people travelled and arrived to Mu?

Slowly, Raito moved away from his own hut, feeling comforted by the fact that, in this whole world of chaos, where the ground seemed completely flat and not circular like that of the Earth, he at least had originated from somewhere.

Looking around more carefully, Raito also noticed some trees in the distance – like a forest. He thought he even saw some vague shapes, which may have been animals, and started moving forward as if to observe better. But he didn't have the chance to investigate the matter any further, because, in his attempt to leave the hill he'd been standing on, he'd unwittingly stumbled on something and lost his balance. Rolling in the red soil for a few paces and tasting the ashen flavour of the soil in his mouth – as though the ground had been scorched, or something – he reflexively tried to shield his head. Eventually, he stopped, and sat up shakily.

Unwilling to admit that his knees had grown a bit unsteady, he tried to gather himself and stand, careful to steady himself on the incline of the ground. Noticing that his khaki trousers and forest green – by now half torn – sweater were covered by dirt, he turned around crossly to determine exactly what he'd stumbled on.

A few metres overhead, he could see a stray piece of...rusty...metal? It was a...a small heap of junk: Raito thought it vaguely reminded him of an old bicycle. Squinting his eyes and observing his surroundings more carefully, he noticed that, cradling the various hills around him, gathered on the edges of the crowd of people, there were entire...entire...junkyards. And all the rubbish was metal or plastic – there were no organic compounds, or food. Heaps of trashed cars, which looked as though they'd just come from a car accident...broken refrigerators with seemingly rotten moss inside their shelves...all kinds of rusty electrical appliances.

As Raito carefully walked downwards to observe, careful not to tumble down the hill again, he thought he even caught sight of a...a rusty Super Nintendo! There were broken televisions, trashed light bulbs, batteries...analogical clocks, even a _steamboat! _And wait, was that a...a...

A two-wheel _chariot_!?

Every single thing that humans have created – and which was destroyed in the real world – was here. All kinds of things, originating from different eras of human history...Raito caught some of some strange devices vaguely reminiscent of mobile phones, but he didn't recognize the technology. He could only guess that, as strange as it sounded...these devices had been invented...after his death! A part of him – the scientific ingenious part – cheered at this discovery, realizing that it was amazing he could now see the technology of the future. But he was quickly disappointed, realizing that he would never manage to see this technology at work – obviously, he'd only ever see the rubbish...or the 'dead' pieces.

And in any case, he should probably feel grateful that he knew as much as he did. He could only imagine how out of sorts the other people in Mu must be feeling – those ancients must be feeling horrible at having missed out on all those years of technological development. So Mu was the place, Raito decided, where humans and all their dead creations...ended up after they died. Just like Ryuuku had said. After this discovery, strangely, Raito felt a little better, believing he had placed yet another piece in this huge riddle called afterlife. But just as he was thinking about this, Raito saw another one of those unnamed futuristic electronic devices – broken, of course – materialize on the top of the garbage stack.

Was it possible that...this device had just been destroyed in the living world, and had now been transferred to the dead? But...but a device is not a living creature, is it...? How was it possible that humans shared Mu with all other creatures and with inanimate objects as well. Raito had assumed that...well...in the afterlife, he'd only find...humans.

Most probably, for the people still alive on Earth...this place, Mu, did not exist. For those on Earth, these ruined buildings around Raito had collapsed and these millions of people had died. The things that Raito was now seeing did not exist...for those outside of Mu. Just as, ironically, the living world now seemed like a pleasant dream. Strangely, looking around, it felt as though Raito was now in the real world – regardless of how strange this world may be.

The living world, Earth...Mu was nonexistent to Earth. But even so, strangely, the two seemed to be connected. Since everything that had once been on Earth, after losing its substance on Earth, could come to Mu...

Just as he was thinking, and looking at the new device, however, Raito thought he saw something moving at the edge of his vision. Alarmed, he narrowed his vision down of the small device. Before he knew what was happening, as his eyes focused on it, he saw a shape moving on the edge of his vision – the translucent shape of a...human? It looked like a hologram, but Raito knew there was nothing that could have produced a hologram quite so realistic.

Immediately cautious, Raito took a step backwards, staring at the image of the man. The person in this hologram did not seem to notice Raito – he was staring intently to the left, as though looking at something specific. Raito turned his eyes where the man was staring, but could only see the horizon. He turned back to the man, only to notice that the holographic image was holding something in his hand...a thing that looked like a device...

It was the same broken device that had just recently appeared in front of Raito's eyes. But as the man was holding it, the device didn't look at all broken – on the contrary, it seemed to be in perfect health. Raito watched the translucent person – who was wearing a rather bizarre combination of clothes – stare at the screen of the device in his hand. Raito waited with bated breath and tightened fists at his sides, seeing the man's expression twist in different grimaces – one angrier than the other. Raito opened his mouth slowly, considering it may be prudent to check if he could communicate with the other.

«Um...» he started saying, but before he could finish his statement, unexpectedly, the man in the...hologram, or optic illusion, exploded.

«Fine!» the man barked all of a sudden, causing Raito to falter in surprise. However, the translucent hallucination wasn't shouting at Raito, but at the screen of the device he was holding. «Fine! Obviously, you're always right! Of course I'm stupid, and didn't deserve to know!» the man shouted again with cold sarcasm in his voice, and Raito realized that he was hearing what sounded like some form of...unusual Chinese dialect, even though the holographic man looked like a Chinese-Caucasian. «Did you even consider asking me before guessing how I would react?...but you went ahead with it nonetheless, didn't you!» Overall, the entire scene reminded Raito of someone who was talking on the phone.

And then, before Raito could do or say anything, the irate man squeezed the device in his hand, and, with one steel hit, the man hurled the small electronic thing to the ground. Raito saw the delicate parts of the thing shatter to smithereens, small shards of plastic exploding everywhere. When the shattered pieces settled down, the device looked exactly the same as it did when it had appeared on Mu, trashed and useless. The last thing Raito managed to see was the man, who had turned his back to the broken device and seemed to be covering his face with his hands. He looked positively nerve-wracked – if Raito's assumptions had been correct, and if the man had indeed been speaking on the phone, then the conversation was obviously very important to him.

Raito caught one last glimpse of the small device's translucent broken parts, and the man's fisted hands, before the hologram-reminiscent hallucination withered away. The man disappeared to thin air, right in front of Raito's very eyes. Even though Raito realized that some part of him must have been prepared for this, it still seemed so...so...unnatural...Now he was left alone again, standing on the hill, in front of the garbage.

Raito turned around slowly, looking warily at the small, rusty-coloured, broken device. He hadn't done anything before, he just looked at it. And suddenly, the hallucination had burst to life – the hallucination Raito had witnessed was most obviously the memory of the way this device had...died, or been destroyed.

It was a...human memory.

Looking at the endless stash of rubbish in the nearby hills, Raito thought he could reason out why these objects were here, even though they were inanimate. Each of these broken things had been associated with human life. And as such, each one of them had a story...a memory stored inside them. Raito could only guess that he'd managed to see this memory because he'd been there when the device had immediately appeared. Perhaps if he stayed here, waiting for more broken objects to appear, he'd witness more memories, and see how each one of them had come to be destroyed...

So, at least in some way, Raito thought he now had some understanding of the reason why these things were here, and why they all had the aura of...ghosts. They weren't here as dead objects – they didn't represent the dead metal, plastic and sulphur. Most likely, they were here as manifestations of the human memory: since they were incorporated – they had existed in a human's mind at some time...they were now brought to Mu. More like...projections of human consciousness, of human thoughts. A great stash of memories from the real world, in the form of objects that had been destroyed.

Raito couldn't help but think, with an uncontrollable small shudder, if the...buildings around here were the same. Obviously, all these objects were incorporated with the memory of their destruction. Following the same logic, Raito couldn't help but wonder. If he approached the 'Twin Towers' and tried to enter them...

...what would he see?

Tearing his eyes forcefully away from the metallic rubbish around him, he resolved to try and bypass the garbage and enter the crowd of people. He didn't like the idea of ambling around mutely, like these people were obviously wont to do...But on the other hand, what other choice did he have? He wondered idly why the man in the hallucination had been angry enough to destroy his machine. But since Raito had heard only the one side of the angry dialogue, he couldn't even begin to surmise the reasons. Involuntarily, he kept thinking about what he'd seen and trying to solve the mystery in his mind, without realizing what he was thinking about. Obviously, the event had affected him more than he realized.

After the first few moments of gingerly trying to walk around the various broken objects around him, he caught sight of a motorcycle. It looked completely pulverized. Raito wondered what kind of memory this object would carry. Judging from its current state, Raito did not wish to see it. Thankfully, however, the motorcycle seemed to have been left there a long time ago, and it didn't produce any memories as Raito looked at it. On the other hand, various other objects were newly appearing around Raito every second. Unwittingly, his eyes feel to another strange object.

It looked very much like a technologically advanced car, like some kind of hover-

But no sooner had Raito started staring at it than a new hallucination appeared. He could see the hovercraft, not broken but completely robust. There was a woman driving it. Technically, the hovercraft wasn't moving around, and it seemed as though Raito was watching the whole driving sequence through a filmstrip. Raito noticed instantly that the translucent woman in the hologram was wearing strange clothes, very much akin to those the man of the previous hallucination had been wearing. She also looked like some kind of Chinese hybrid. Raito was privately amazed at the similarities.

The woman wasn't saying anything, and Raito kept watching, quickly tiring of the mundane spectacle of watching someone driving. However, no sooner had he thought of moving away than he heard a deafening scream. Looking up hoarsely, he saw the woman's face twisted in a grimace of absolute horror. Even though Raito could not see what had scared her so, he felt the hair on his forearms stand on end under his blazer, in response to her panic. But before Raito could clearly understand what was happening, a loud crash was heard. The next second, he saw the hovercraft in the hallucination pinned on what looked like a solid surface. The vehicle was completely trashed. And on the driver's seat, albeit stifled by airbags, the translucent woman was hunched with unblinking eyes and red liquid on her face. Dead.

The memory – or hallucination – faded away slowly, and Raito was left frozen, standing there. He could still see her dead eyes and broken teeth behind his eyelids. It took a few moments for his mind to start working at full capacity again. He looked at the trashed, rusty hovercraft and remembered the horrid memory of the car crash. Immediately, he resolved never to look at one of these broken objects again.

But if only it where that simple. Unfortunately, in his effort to walk through the huge conglomeration of ruins and rubbish, he was forced to endure this particular scathing brand of melancholy many more times. Even though he tried not to let his eyes rest on objects for too long a time, new objects were spawning around him constantly – probably because many objects of the living world were breaking all the time. And since Raito's inherent curiosity made him eager to look at new technologically advanced things, he involuntarily looked at some objects for a little too long, and was then forced to endure the hallucinations.

Of course, by the time his seventh hallucination appeared, he decided to try and walk away, ignoring it. However, he was dismayed to realize that, even if he refused to watch it, somehow, it would still appear in front of him – no matter where he ran to, or if he closed his eyes.

He soon realized that the only objects that could produce such hallucinations were the new arrivals. The old objects, like the various twentieth century appliances and vehicles around Raito, or the more ancient machines, never produced any hallucination – only the ones that had been freshly destroyed had a story to tell, it seems. Apart from this, after watching about a dozen of these hallucinations, Raito realized one more thing: it could not be a coincidence that all the people he'd seen in the holograms seemed half-Chinese. Raito astutely remembered that, at the time he'd been alive, it had been estimated that the Hindus and the Chinese would eventually augment tremendously in population and affect the entire world. Perhaps what he was seeing, this...lack of racial diversity...was the long-term result of the twentieth century globalization?

Obviously, a longer time must have passed since his death than Raito had supposed, if he was now seeing these effects. And judging by the technology...at least a hundred years must have passed on Earth since his death. Wait! That didn't mean that...his Trial had consumed an entire century, had it? It certainly didn't feel that way...

But then again, Raito could not be sure of anything. What if, when he was in his Trial, what had felt like a day to him had actually been a year in the real world? What if he had lost his sense of time?

If the entire living world on Earth was now half-Chinese, half-Hindu and even half-African, he supposed he very well might have lost all senses, not only that of time.

Finally, after what felt like – and probably had been – hours of difficult trekking, he managed to find himself at the edge of the garbage lot. Now, at last, he was on the level of the crowds of people, having descended the hill fully. In front of him, he could see the endless throng of different bodies walking around, seemingly aimlessly. The silence became pronounced once more. Gathering his wits and courage, Raito walked forth, reminding himself to mark the hill he'd come from and remember the way back to the hut in case of emergency – although he didn't want to think of what kind of 'emergency' he might encounter in this obviously...metaphysical...place. It would prove difficult to remember the exact location of this specific hill however, since there were at least a hundred identical ones around Raito.

Truth be told, he now didn't feel much better than he did when he'd been in the Trial. The only comfort now was that, at the very least, he wasn't alone. Billions of people were here with him, experiencing the same exact things. This was a small consolation.

Then, suddenly, just as he was watching the solid crowd of people, he noticed a few of them break away from the group, and run out of the crowd, with a panicked look on their faces. Those few hurried away, running toward the hills, the faraway forests, or even the garbage lot where Raito was standing. Raito spotted a tall African woman walk by him in tribal apparel, looking as though she'd just come from the depths of the black continent and not paying Raito any mind, as though he wasn't there. The chestnut haired man stared in wonder for a few minutes, amazed by what he was seeing. Then he shook his head lightly to recover his thoughts. He was utterly confused...

This was truly – Raito shivered lightly – the world of the dead. This was a place where all of those who had died in the world of the living...gathered. From every age, and every place...And now he was one of them. One of the dead. Again, without realizing it, his fingers started shaking lightly. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that he was all right, that he wasn't alone...some part of him was still insecure.

Had all his trials...all the things he'd learned...been for nothing?

He then looked at the monocle of a man in a tuxedo suit, who was walking at the edge of the crowd at the moment, and Raito restrained himself from scratching his temple nervously. Would he actually stay here...for all eternity? Because he could see ancient Greek-looking people mingling with the crowd as well. If they'd stayed here for a few thousand years...then was Raito meant to suppose... That he'd stay here just as long...? In this...this huge, endless...isolated ghost-place? And even though all those people were here, somehow, strangely enough, Raito still felt incurably and awkwardly alo-

«Yagami Raito.» a voice was suddenly heard beside him, startling him to the point of fright, since he'd accustomed himself to the silence. He whirled around immediately, expecting to see some kind of demon, threatening puppet or hallucination. Actually, when he first turned around, he actually thought he saw himself. Blinking a couple of times, the shape in front of him shifted, and his eyes finally focused on what looked like a beautiful girl, complete with light chestnut hair and refreshingly tanned skin. Raito was a tad surprised and temporarily disarmed by the suddenness of her appearance...he could have sworn that he'd just seen...

In any case, she continued without waiting for an answer. He noticed, with a small amount of inner horror, that her voice, despite her great beauty, did not sound entirely...female. It was as though her tone was some kind of bass mixture between male and female voice. Technically, it was not unpleasant to the ear...but it was still disorienting to watch. Raito reasoned with himself that her voice was probably the reason he'd initially mistaken her for a man.

«This is Mu.» she spoke with a mellow voice and a sunny smile that seemed a bit eerie in the bleak landscape, but nonetheless genial. Raito had convinced himself that the theory of contagious reactions did not apply to him – he could listen to an entire laughing fit without even cracking a smile – but nevertheless his frown softened a bit at her expression, and his attention focused on her words. He thought that perhaps he should say something, but she spoke immediately in his place, preventing him from speaking.

«All humans come here when they die.» she continued, nodding. Well he had surmised as much, he thought shrewdly, but didn't feel like antagonizing her. Her white dress made the sparkle in her warm hazel eyes become pronounced, and Raito was temporarily allowed to forget about his cynical thoughts. However, the ominous tone of her words clashed with the gentleness of her appearance. Overall, it seemed like...like her voice was incompatible with her body.

«From all the people you see here» she continued, making a sweeping motion towards the crowds of walking people «you can only speak to the ones you have already met during your lifetime.»

Well that explained why not so many people as Raito would have imagined were talking to each other. If you could only talk to the people that you'd already met, then... Raito looked at her with a completely lost expression. He didn't remember ever having met her in his lifetime, so how was he able to talk to her now? The girl continued her speech, still not allowing Raito to explain his problem.

«You must find the person who is searching for you,» she started, and yet again, her voice sounded ominous, even though her face seemed cheerful. She was looking at Raito with a serene expression «and then, you shall be in heaven.» she finished.

Raito's eyes became fixed on the girl's face, as his attention narrowed down on her completely. 'Be in...Heaven?' he thought, as he felt his stomach twist in knots. 'Does this mean I am now...in Hell?' Once again, he repeated in his mind that Ryuuku would one day be punished for being a liar, or something to that effect. At least there was a way, he thought eagerly, with a small glimmer of hope lighting in his mind, that he could enter this...'heaven'.

But...'Find the person who was looking for him?' Raito turned to stare at the limitless amount of people moving in front of him. Find a single person in this huge, limitless crowd, the end of which Raito could not even see? That was impossible!! Especially when most of the people were in near-constant motion!

This woman must be playing him for a fool!

Raito wanted to tell this to the girl, but the moment he turned back around to speak to her...she was gone. As though she'd never existed. The only thing left behind was a puddle of water in the soil, where she'd been standing. Raito leaned forward, seeing his reflection on the water of the small surface. He stretched a finger forward and, thinking he had nothing to lose, sunk it in the water.

However, strangely enough, it didn't feel very much like water at all. It was...too...gooey. Pulling his hand out slowly, Raito stared at his finger. He lunged backwards immediately, losing his balance. There was an insect...like a huge cockroach, lodged on his knuckles. Its disgusting legs were moving, making him flinch from disgust at the sensation. And that wasn't the worst of it: the cockroach's head, strangely enough, was not the head of an insect...but the head of the woman he'd just been talking to!!

With a disgusted yelp, he reflexively started shaking his hand, trying to dislodge the disgusting creature. Suddenly, he heard a small cackle. And the next second, the cockroach was gone. The man rubbed his finger against his blazer, in an unconscious effort to wipe it clean. A few moments later, he was left kneeling on the ground in front of the puddle of water, gasping, and cradling his face with his hands.

«Shit...» he muttered, very much aware that he was being unreserved and unable to stop himself. '_Isn't this stuff supposed to be over...? Isn't the Trial over...? Then why...'_ He wondered, and then fought to make himself stand back on his feet. Was he truly in Hell...? But the possibility didn't seem plausible. This was Mu...it was only one place, not separated into heaven and hell. Perhaps that woman...cockroach...wench, had been speaking metaphorically...?

Or maybe he'd had another hallucination...? He was quite prone to these lately, apparently. He was left to stare at the empty space beside him for a few more moments, watching the particles – probably dead particles – floating in the air – dead air, most likely – around him. After all, everything seemed to be dead in Mu. Either dead or in the process of perishing and decaying.

After a few moments, and having fully replenished his courage after the incident, Raito managed to recover from his temporary cynical mental rant but turning back toward the crowd.

Perhaps he really ought to search for the person who was 'searching for him'. The whole concept seemed rather ridiculous, but, after undergoing his Trial, Raito had learned to try and detect reason even in the most seemingly random things. Quite like Ryuuzaki, actually, who always seemed obsessed with explaining everything – even the most preposterous of things, like the Death Note or the Shinigami – with logical arguments. But the mere thought of something as familiar as Ryuuzaki in a place as vast and unfamiliar as Mu sent a sudden wave of strange nostalgia in Raito's heart.

In any case, Raito thought gathering his thoughts again. Since he had no other indication about what he was supposed to do, it was worth a try to test the truth in what Cockroach Coquette had said, before he attempted to enter the crowd and search for a specific person.

And Raito knew exactly how to test her claims.

Seeing a person that he had most definitely never met in his entire life, he approached the old man in a friendly manner, smiling genially at him in order to gain his interest. Thankfully, Raito had perfected his fake smile over the course of all his life – and afterlife – to the extent that it could fool most people. And indeed, as the stranger saw him, he smiled back a little curiously. Raito took courage from the responsiveness of the other, and approached the man – who was dressed in twentieth century clothing – with a brisk pace.

Truth be told, Raito felt strange – and uncharacteristically nervous – as he realized that he was talking to a different soul for the first time after his Trial. One would have thought that, after all that time of extensive isolation, Raito would be rejoicing in the presence of another human. However, truth be told, Raito currently felt as though he wanted to crawl somewhere, in some dark cave, and just be left alone. That crowd was huge, and he'd been so accustomed to thinking for himself by now, that...his attempts at communication, albeit polished after years of training, seemed rather half-hearted.

In any case, he reminded himself that it would be necessary to mingle with this crowd if he wanted even a small chance at...progressing – whatever 'progress' he could achieve. In any case, even though he currently felt like it, Raito doubted that he would benefit by staying locked in a small wooden hut, in the long-term.

He stopped in front of the stranger and started speaking in English, which was considered the universal language. And since this man looked Caucasian, Raito could only hope.

«Excuse me,» the young man started, «do you know where I may...» but his voice faded out immediately, as he realized that he most obviously wasn't being heard. The moment he'd started talking, the stranger had just kept smiling at him with a completely ignorant look. Then, whilst Raito was still speaking, the other turned to walk away, as though he hadn't even realized that Raito was talking to him, let alone heard him.

So the girl – whoever she had been – had been telling the truth. He really could not speak to strangers...but why? What was the point of this? It disturbed Raito a bit; the notion that someone might be trying to talk to him right now, and Raito would be unable to hear them. What if one of these countless strangers was trying to talk to Raito right now? It would seem so stupid of Raito not to answer them and ignore them...somehow, even though his public image was currently the least of his worries, it still bothered Raito quite a bit.

So he had to find someone he could talk to, who would help him understand this place more. Someone he had already met when he was alive...and anyone would do! No – not anyone. He had to find the person in this crowd who was looking for him...and in order to search, Raito had no choice but to mingle with the crowd. No choice...

'_...I'm hating this already.'_ Well, in any case, he reminded himself as he grit his teeth and walked forward, with the unwilling steps of a man who is about to enter the sea in December, he'd been through much worse than a little street traffic. The worse had already come and gone, he reminded himself, and the memory of the fountains of his own blood beneath the Headquarter building was quickly squelched and suppressed.

Delving into the depths of the ocean of humans was one thing...but finding a familiar face – anyone that he could at least talk to – was a different matter altogether.

'_Someone who is now looking for me_...', Raito thought. After a quick scan of his acquaintances, he came up with a rather dissatisfying short list of people. Apparently, if he'd known what was good for him, he would have socialized a bit more during his lifetime, in order to have a wider selection. As it was however, Misa was at the top of his list for potential fans, followed closely by Takada. Most likely Misa would be looking for him. Who else? Misa always preached she 'loved him with all her heart', and Raito knew for a fact that she always wanted to be beside him – even though he didn't want to – so it would only be logical she would be looking for him.

However... Misa had used the Death Note, hadn't she?

And if she'd undergone a trial of souls anything akin to Raito's... then there was a possibility – high possibility, when recalling Leeru's words – that she might have failed and become...Shinigami.

Still, there was a slim hope that he'd find her. And if there was anyone in this crowd who would be looking for him, then that would definitely be Misa, who had loved him so desperately when they were alive. Of course, Raito realized that he was thinking of manipulating her love for him once again...however...if it meant that he could 'go to heaven', whatever this was...Besides, as long as he manipulated her for her own good, he wouldn't be harming her...would he? If he used her to get to heaven, then she would use him equally, wouldn't she? Just like she had when they were alive.

Actually, Raito thought a bit crossly, now that he really thought about it, it may have been wrong of him to condone in a course of action that would lead her to lose her lifespan for his sake, but, in return, he'd granted her permission over his whole – nonexistent – 'love life', which was the thing she'd always wanted, wasn't it?

True, he'd still manipulated her...but at least she'd been happy...hadn't she? She had been happy, he tried to comfort himself. And then, in a sudden flash, he remember the fissure on the porcelain puppet's face, and the red-eyed demon's words as he broke her.

'_She likes it.'_

Suddenly, Raito felt sick. He was now a few feet away from the crowd, standing there silently and thinking. He wouldn't act in the same way this time. He wouldn't break her, even if she was happy with being broken – it was his responsibility, as smarter and more aware than her anyway. It was no crime trying to find her and take her to heaven, was it? If he succeeded in going to heaven as well, that was an added bonus.

However, judging by the rules of this system...Raito wondered if he really could lead Misa to heaven. After all, in order to go to heaven, you supposedly needed to find the person who was truly looking for you. Was he truly looking for her? Truth be told, after all, he'd never fallen in love with her, or even in lust with her to begin with. Fulfilling her desire to be his 'romantic interest' had been the price to pay in order for her to use her Shinigami's eyes for him...

However, she was definitely the person that would be looking for him. And as such, he was the person who would start searching for her too. In this way, they'd both succeed in their goals. And even if he was required to find her in this great crowd, then he would not abandon the effort until he succeeded! He hadn't gone through the kind of pain he'd experienced just to abandon the effort at the end. For goodness sake, he'd gone through the ultimate pain of...of those Hands. And if he'd managed to withstand it back then – it felt so good thinking about it on the past tense – then he could withstand another task.

With these hopeful, if not slightly pompous, thoughts, Raito took his first step into the valley full of people, expecting to find himself stifled by the press of strangers' bodies around him. However...slowly... something changed. Something in the atmosphere became...darker. The air became colder. Suddenly...

Raito slowly looked upwards, with a sense of disbelieving wariness. The sky wasn't burgundy and orange anymore – it was dark grey and ice blue – and there was no sun to illuminate the details of the environment...A chill ran over his forearms as he stood unmoving, and he realized the temperature must have just dropped tremendously in the few seconds that had transpired from the time he'd joined the crowd until now.

But he wasn't left to ponder this for much longer. Unexpectedly, a piercing scream shattered the silence that he'd become accustomed to. Unable to help himself, Raito jumped lightly from surprise and started looking around. However, just as he turned his eyes to see where on earth that scream had come from, he gasped.

His limbs froze, and he felt his ankles weakening as he stared around him.

This wasn't...this...

_This was not like before._

«AHHHHHHH!!!!!» a distant scream was heard again, different from the one before. Raito watched the people around him – the people he couldn't talk to, who originated from all different kinds of places and ages – shuffle frantically, pushing each other in their effort to run away. Even Raito was manhandled, shoved around, as people around him moved.

Because suddenly, the world around him...had turned completely different.

It wasn't a valley full of people anymore, and the sky was not as warm as Raito had seen from on top of the hill. Now that he had descended and walked among the people, he could actually see that things were very different from the inside.

He looked around staring at people's moving bodies: instead of wide desert planes, Raito could see a narrow, dark street, filled to the brim with people, of course. The environment looked like a very complex maze, since there were side-roads, buildings on the sides of the road, along with crevices, dark nooks and crannies. And in every direction Raito looked, he'd see some kind of...some kind of... bizarreness. On closer inspection, there were staircases leading to and from nowhere, there were doors placed upside down literally in the middle of the street, there were complicated pathways and side routes...and strangely enough, there was even the odd apple tree here and there. Raito looked upwards on the closest tree, and actively winced when he caught sight of the apples.

Some of them were shrivelled, and rotten, almost grey in colour. But worst of all were the half-eaten or eaten ones, which were hanging on the tree normally. Raito could see worms on a few of them, and immediately turned his eyes away, to focus back on the road.

There were buildings framing the sides of this narrow road – and some of them were rusty buildings that Raito had seen before. However, as Raito stood in the middle of the crowd, the buildings didn't look rusty any more, or ruined at all.

The Twin Towers, for example, which were hovering a few miles ahead, looked in perfect health, with the windows sparkling... as though they'd never been touched, much less wrecked. However, Raito keenly noticed that no one was entering or exiting the buildings. He supposed that they must have known something he didn't. Raito stood there, unmoving, not knowing what to do or where to look. How was he supposed to find Misa – or any other person – in this huge, never-ending crowd? Suddenly, a hoarse shout caught his attention, and he turned to see what was happening. He caught sight of someone dashing hurriedly out of a building that looked like a pharmacy, with a haunted grimace on his face. Raito noticed that, even though the man was shouting, very few paid him any mind. Raito noticed a few others entering the buildings around them, but they all ended up rushing out with blanched faces. By the way their eyes kept sliding around warily, Raito was guessing that they were new in Mu, just like he was.

He decided to postpone his plans to visit the sights, at least until he managed to learn more about them. The problem with this place – probably an intentional problem, by the looks of it – was that there was no one he could talk to, in this place – no one he could ask for information or talk to about his problems.

The auburn haired man sighed, running a hand through his hair. His elbow bumped unintentionally against someone's shoulder, and he apologized quickly, only to realize that the woman had probably not heard his apology. In any case, judging by her disinterest in him, Raito could only guess that she had grown accustomed to this situation. This was a very sad thought indeed, and it made Raito wonder if he'd also end up spending a very long time here. He was already feeling weary of the fact that he could not walk freely and was forced to move with the flow of the crowd, or squeeze himself between others.

Just as he was finally adjusting and focusing back on his destination and the ever-changing crowd of people, he promptly heard multiple new screams. Seeing some people run forward – most just ignored the commotion – Raito followed their lead, sprinting to see what on earth was happening. The crowd finally stopped, and Raito stopped as well. He pushed forward and stood on the tips of his toes, trying to discern more clearly what was happening over the heads of those standing in front of him.

The crowd had formed a circle around a boy, a teenager dressed with conventional clothing, who was kneeling on the ground. Spread out in front of this boy, lying motionless on the ground, was another teenager. The cracked white lips, ghastly face and red stains on the chest of the boy who was lying down were enough to inform Raito that he was dead. However, Raito didn't understand how this could be happening here in Mu, if- Suddenly, the one who was kneeling over the corpse raised his head, turning his face toward the sky. And then, he released a great cry – a scream enough to slice through Raito's thoughts:

«_I HATE YOU!!»_ the boy screamed, and several women in the crowd around Raito cowered back, whimpering in fear at the great voice. They skittered and ran away, and Raito was amazed at the fact that they could just up and abandon this situation in cold blood. However, he was even more flabbergasted at the fact that, even though he'd obviously never met this boy when he'd been alive, Raito could clearly hear and understand what the other was saying.

«_WHYYY? Why did you leave me!?_ _I HATE YOU!!_» he howled again, and Raito watched as the devastated youth doubled over in his kneeling position, grabbing his dead friend's head and cradling it pathetically. He started crying uncontrollably – a rather overdramatic display for a respectable male, Raito thought – shaking the dead body's shoulders, as though trying to wring what little life was left out of it.

Suddenly, Raito saw a woman from the crowd, a brunette with a sombre, determined face, move forward in gingerly steps, coming closer to the kneeling, crying boy. She stretched her hand outwards a bit shakily and let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. And then, finally, with a solid sigh, the woman dropped her hand, letting it fall on the teenager's shoulder.

«It's all right.» she said, in a completely soothing voice. The kneeling teenager turned toward her, with his eyes wide and uncomprehending.

_«All right?!» _he shouted, shaking her hand away from his shoulder. _«No, it's not 'all right'! It's not fucking 'all right'!»_ he yelled, and, as though never having heard her, continued his mourning, bending down and resting his forehead against his dead friend's face. For some reason, Raito felt a sold weight settle in his chest. «_He's gone...he's gone...»_ the dejected teen muttered again, and Raito thought it strange that this boy was being so extremely sensitive about the death of his male friend. Was it possible that they were brothers or close friends? On second thoughts, teenagers' emotions were always-

_«YOU TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME! YOU!» _The enraged voice rang again, and, this time, the teenager was looking and pointing upwards, toward the sky, as though addressing the gods. «_It's your fault!!» _ The boy spat again, anger and desperation seeping into his words.

Until finally, the portly woman who was hovering over the both of them bent down, kneeling next to the boy. And without another word, without any explanation, she solidly proceeded to pluck the crying boy's hands away from his dead friend's shoulders and, with almost maternal care, pulled the teenager's face in the crook of her neck.

«Shh...» she muttered, patting the back of the boy's head and holding him in place as he tried to writhe away. «Shhh...Let it out...» the youth's shouting voice was smothered and muted by her embrace, and Raito felt uncomfortable as he watched the scene. The same stood for many others in the audience, obviously, because Raito saw some more people leaving or turning to move away. Raito stayed put, curious to see where this was going...curious to understand why he could suddenly hear these peoples' voices.

It took a few moments, and Raito stared with true-blue amazement at the occurrences. The teenager struggled for a few seconds, trying to push the woman away and then, a few moments later, finally, he settled down. His crying intensified, becoming desperate. His howling voice was muted, but even what little could be heard sounded hoarse, as though a part of him was being torn away, along with his friend's death. Raito couldn't help but consider the display melodramatic...a few moments later, however, when he saw the teenager's hands come to wrap around the woman, in an obvious effort to find comfort, something tightened in the his gut. The way the teenager allowed himself to undergo such humiliation, crying with abandon...it did something to Raito's insides. He didn't like it. Actually, he'd had enough.

And he was just about to turn away, but before he could move, he saw, right in front of his very eyes, the kneeling and the dead boys' bodies start to dissipate, becoming translucent. The crying teenager turned to air in the woman's embrace, his voice the faraway dirge of an animal, and she patted his head one last time before he disappeared completely.

By the time the two friends were gone and the smoke from the disappearance was over, Raito's face was completely blanched, and there was an ill expression on it. He watched some people from the crowd send sympathetic glances toward the woman who had helped the grim duo – glances of gratefulness, since they probably couldn't talk to her directly – and then they slowly walked away, since the spectacle was over. Without realizing it, Raito held still, not moving at all.

There was a very bad idea running through his mind, as he observed the solid ground where the boys had been lying. A very bad idea.

_«The place where minds join»_ Leeru had said.

What if, by escaping the place full of his own nightmares, he'd just entered a place...full of other peoples' nightmares as well?

That scene with the crying boy...that had looked like a bad memory. Just like the ones Raito had seen when he'd been staring at the dead objects before. The only difference, now, was that he hadn't realized he'd been watching a hallucination until the very end. In retrospect, it made sense that the one teenager was dead and that Raito could hear the voices – it was a hallucination, not something that was happening in Mu. The woman had not been part of the memory, obviously, or else she would have disappeared along with the boys. Therefore, the woman's external interference interrupted the memory. However, how was it possible that Raito had managed to hear her voice?

Not only that, but there was no way Raito could tell whether what he'd just witnessed had been the woman's own memory, or someone else's.

New screams were heard, in the far distance.

He looked around, and saw, true enough, a world comprised of nightmares. There was darkness in every corner, there were screams echoing around, there were people running around frantically. And amongst all this, he could see the identical expressions of hesitation, confusion and need for attention that were displayed everywhere, from people of all ages and eras. In the midst of all this panic, they were all trying to search. Search for the person who was searching for them, as ironic as that sounded.

How many of them had found that person, Raito wondered? How many had...'gone to heaven'? Judging on the traffic on the road, Raito was willing to wager it had not been many. Ryuuku had said that there was no heaven or hell...but on the other hand, Shinigami were never allowed to enter Mu, were they? Would Ryuuku really know about that?

Raito shook his head, trying to rid himself of the doubts. He walked forward, starting to recuperate from the mild shock he'd undergone. And just as he was watching the portly woman who'd helped the teenagers walk away, he turned to the left and gasped. Because there was something...something...on the tree outside the double doors of the black building, Raito could see a hanged person, a corpse. The hanged woman's hair was long and blonde, and she was wearing a white nightgown – the kind of thing they wear in psychiatric wards. Her throat was long and deformed...like a monster. But this was not the worst of all.

When Raito looked at her face...she was wide awake.

Her blue eyes were staring at him, blinking. Behind her irises, a stare of pure despair.

Raito took a few steps backwards, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing ineffectively, at a loss for words. He pitied her and was terrified of her at the same time. With a convulsion of her shoulders, suddenly, she raised her hands toward him, as though to touch him. Raito started breathing harshly, trying to retain his dignity and not flee. However, his back ended up banging against something, and he turned around to see he'd collided with on of the bizarre upside-down doors, which were located in the middle of the street.

Hoarsely, Raito turned around to look at the hanged woman again, and was surprised to see someone – an old man – standing in front of her. Raito watched, partly in wonder and horror, as the man found a grey barrel from the side of the street, and dragged it forward, until it rested under the hanging woman's feet. The muscles on Raito's thighs flexed in involuntary tension as the woman steadied herself on her feet, her long toenails scraping against the barrel. Until finally, with the old man's assistance, she managed to raise her hands high enough to loosen the noose from around her throat.

_«Thank you...»_ a choked voice screeched from somewhere, and the old man nodded slowly, with a rather knowing smile, as though he'd been hanged many times and knew how bad it felt.

Raito watched as she pulled the rope off, and nearly closed his eyes to block away the sight of her deformed neck. He wasn't forced to look at her for much longer however, since she dissipated, calmly, into dusty air.

A hallucination.

Someone's nightmare.

Raito raised his eyes again and saw the old man, who was now sitting on the barrel himself, obviously resting. He didn't seem to be aware of Raito's stare. With his feet feeling numb, Raito walked away, trying to keep himself from running, if only to retain his sense of manhood and decency.

But it seems that the more time he spent in the crowd, the more aware he became of the true nature of this place. Of the people who surrounded him, at least one fourth were hallucinations. And the most problematic of the hallucinations weren't those with people...but those with monsters. Raito had seen a human-sized mantis terrorizing a little girl as a hallucination. He'd seen a huge black pit, full of petrol, where a person with a corporate suit had been constantly drowning in – Raito could still remember that man's mouth, puking petrol and shouting '_I didn't know!'_

The place where minds meet? Indeed. Now Raito had insight in the guilt-infester worse nightmares of every single one out of the billions around him. He was living in this nightmare-comprised world. And ironically, his only chance at salvation was located somewhere in this crowd. What other choice did he have except staying here and fighting his way through? If he stayed outside the crowd, nothing would be resolved. He walked a bit further, trying to look at faces of people and notice if he recognized any of them. If only he could find Misa soon...but then again, judging on the presence of the ancient people around him, he had to face that there was a very real possibility...a possibility...that he wouldn't find anyone.

Hours passed, and he developed a strong stomach. He tried to keep moving forward and pay no attention to anything except the faces around. In fact, he'd managed to walk a fair distance without being harassed, before he heard a new shout of distress, coming from very close to him.

«ARGH!»

Alarmed by the suddenness and proximity of it, Raito looked at his right, where a stranger – an old man dressed in expensive clothes– was screaming as though his very psyche were being ripped off. Seeing that screaming face overcome by pain, Raito realized he must be witnessing a new hallucination. He noticed that there was a woman in front of the old man, tall and blonde, who seemed to be talking to the geezer and had her back to Raito. Feeling a bit relieved, Raito realized that she must be there to help the old man overcome his horrors. However, something wasn't quite right...the man had a look of terror on his face as he looked at her, as though she was the worst thing that could happen-

Suddenly the old man covered his ears, obviously not wanting to hear anything the girl had to say. And the more time the woman kept speaking, the worse the old man seemed to become – but the girl wasn't stopping, quite the contrary, she seemed content to torment him. Finally, after a few moments of watching the tyrannical display, Raito had had enough. Obviously, she couldn't deal with this situation. It didn't seem to be very difficult to try and calm this geezer down...Raito was fairly sure he could manage. So he shoved his way through the rushing people around him and approached the woman, intent on discovering what was going on, hoping he'd manage to understand what was happening even without being able to communicate with her.

He considered shouting, but thought that he wouldn't be heard anyway. Of course! In the spur of the moment, he'd forgotten that he couldn't be heard by people he hadn't met before. In any case, now that he'd come close, Raito could hear what the woman was telling the old man.

«..._and then you killed her! Don't try to deny it!»_

Her words seemed strange for someone who's trying to calm the other down. Finally, Raito heard the terrified old man whimper something. Then, in front of Raito's very eyes, the woman reached into the pocket of her trousers and produced a...was that a knife?

Something was definitely wrong here...Raito was not so sure she wanted to calm the other anymore-

She brandished the object in front of the old man's eyes, making crude motions. Raito's eyes widened as he stood a few feet behind her.

_«...and now I'll make you pay, both you and your son-«_

She lunged toward the old man, but before he could stop himself, Raito had pounced forward to stop her, restraining her hand and holding her back by the waist.

_«What?!» _her enraged voice echoed, as she turned around and tried to pry Raito away from her, in an effort to finish off the terrified old man.

«Wait!...» Raito started, realizing that he should have thought his actions through before acting «...have you gone mad?» he finally finished. Amazingly, as he talked to her, he saw her eyes completely focused on him, indicating that she was listening perfectly. How was this possible...? She could...hear him?

«_Get off me!_» she shouted, trying to shove Raito away, but failing because of her inferior strength. Raito tried to twist the knife out of her grip in front of the old man's frightened eyes, but the woman was strong and persistent. «_Get off!» _she shouted again, and Raito spoke.

Raito realized that, judging by the fact that she seemed so involved with this man, it was entirely probable that she was part of this hallucination too. Obviously, she felt wronged by this man enough to want to kill him, so...Raito cursed his own curiosity, and the predicaments it tended to place him in.

«Look...whatever he's done to you...» he spoke in a marginally calm voice, remembering what the woman had said before «You can't fix the damage with this!» he motioned toward the knife, and got shivers at the memory of the way the Hands had-

But the woman was unrelenting as Raito tried to keep her from kicking at his calves, or even poking his eye out with the unprincipled way she was waving the dagger. Then, finally, she turned to him again, with her eyes filled with the liquid fires of fury.

_«No...»_ she spat, finally succeeding in shaking Raito off, her blonde her and red lips flashing in front of his eyes as she kicked him in the jewels _«But I can make him pay!»_. Subject to the primal pain of all men, there wasn't much Raito could do as he reflexively doubled over, allowing her to escape.

«Wait!» Raito said loudly with a wince, recovering from his fallen position when he saw that the woman had poised the blade over the old man's trembling larynx. Even though that geezer was dressed in fancy clothing and looked like he came from a rich family, in Raito's eyes, he looked more like the quintessential pathetic existence than a serious criminal. He grabbed the woman by the elbow again and towed her backwards roughly, ignoring her wrath. She shouted in surprise as she felt his manhandling, but Raito didn't wait for her to hit him again. He pulled her aside and flung her to the ground with a neat manoeuvre. Belatedly, he realized that there were many people from the crowd who had gathered around them, watching the display. Raito groaned internally, but wondered if it was perhaps a good idea to draw attention to himself, under the circumstances. He needed Misa to find him, after all, or vice versa.

«_You- You-...»_ the woman shouted, and now her voice sounded more desperate than enraged. Raito hoped that the old man at least had the good sense to escape while Raito was distracting this wildcat «_How dare you!» _she shouted again, standing back on her feet. She was wearing leather trousers and a red blouse on top, along with a pair of high heels on her feet _«You don't even know what ha-«_

«So tell me!» Raito loudly ordered, staring at her with the best piercing glare he could muster.

«_Tell you? Who do you think you are?»_ The woman shouted again, as though scorning him.

«An outsider. So explain it to me and I'll tell you if it's worth killing him over.» he tried not to raise his voice more than necessary, but it was a useless struggle, since the woman had struck a nerve. Besides, it felt good to argue with an actual human – in a manner of speaking – after all this time.

And as he looked at her thunder-stricken face, he felt a sense of justification overcome him. He was getting through to her! He didn't have time to check what the old man was doing, but he could only suppose that he was gone by now. In the heat of the moment, Raito seemed to have forgotten that he was probably participating in a hallucination, and it didn't really matter if the old man escaped or not.

_«You...»_ the woman started curtly, looking at Raito strangely, as though she was considering something _«You wouldn't understand.» _she finished, flinging her blond tresses over her shoulders. Her anger seemed to have deflated along the way somehow, and by the end of her statement, she seemed more resigned than she did irate.

«Try me.» Raito was tempted to grin, but held back.

The woman stared at him for a moment longer, then tapped her foot a bit rebelliously on the ground for a few seconds...until finally, she opened her mouth again. She pointed rudely at the geezer with her index finger, but Raito didn't turn to stare at the direction she was showing him, preparing to keep his eyes locked on her face. _«His rich son met my sister and left her pregnant. And because this rich father didn't want his precious son to marry her»_ the woman exploded, looking as though she was releasing some gigantic weight from her chest _«he paid her to have an abortion. And when she said she wouldn't have one, he sent someone to kill her! And now he's denying it – and since I have no proof to lock him in, I'm going to finish him off with these two hands!»_ she displayed her two hands in front of Raito's face, as though to accentuate her argument.

Raito stared at her for a few moments, looking at her as she panted. She looked as though she'd just run a marathon, even though the only thing she'd done was say a few words. He didn't say anything, waiting for her to finish.

_«He killed her!»_ the woman repeated, and Raito saw tears building in her hazel eyes. Raito nodded slowly, not speaking, or breaking eye contact. Without realizing it, his face had taken an expression of mild disgust. He'd never be able to tolerate this kind of injustice...it seemed that this had been his curse. On the one hand, he could understand perfectly why the woman wanted this old man dead – Raito would have also wanted him dead if he'd been her. But on the other hand, after all he'd seen, somehow... this woman didn't look like a vicious criminal. Intolerant and angry, yes, but not vicious. It seemed...ugly, somehow, as Raito watched her trying to kill someone. He shook his head, not bothering to correct his expression, what was the point anyway.

He thought about what to say. Should he suggest something or would he just make things worse? There was no way to imprint in her stubborn mind the understanding he had recently gained about this kind of thing. But upon seeing him nodding at her with that disturbed expression, she started breathing a bit more slowly, obviously calming down. Soon, Raito ironically realized that he didn't even need to speak, really.

_«He killed her.»_ she repeated, as though thinking about the words carefully. Then, she turned toward Raito again, with narrow eyes, and spat _«Just because he didn't want her to have a baby! It's not like we would have asked for money or anything...Can you believe it?»_ and then, unexpectedly, tears started spilling over her cheeks. «_My little_ _Katrina! The person I loved most in the entire world! And she did nothing wrong! And now he doesn't get punished...!»_ she moaned, and her knees hit the ground. Then finally, after a few moments of blind crying, she spoke again, with narrow eyes, filled with ire.

_«I can't believe people like him exist in this world...they don't deserve to exist!» _she said between sobs, and this time, Raito couldn't suppress a small, rather melancholy smile. He didn't really realize he was displaying this expression, or else he would have immediately neutralized it. But it seems that somewhere along the line, along with his ideals, his face had become more passionate as well.

«No, they don't. But they exist.» Raito said, folding his arms across his chest. «What kind of animal arranges for women and children to be killed? And the fact that you're saying this now...proves that you've killed him already.» he said, twisting the notion in his mind. It's true, he thought intently. From the moment one rejects a person's humanity...that person stops having value...There's no point in creating more pain and more suffering, when there is no humanity to suffer. Is there?

And the satisfaction revenge will bring does not compare with the satisfaction of the return of what we have lost, Raito pondered, twisting the different aspects in his mind. Why make a murderer out of this woman as well? However, even though this all seemed completely logical to Raito now, in retrospect – and when thinking of Sai – he realized that the victim cannot see the world quite so objectively or clearly. It was natural that she wanted revenge...but allowing her to take it...after all, obviously, this memory was her nightmare. Obviously, she hadn't been as satisfied by her revenge as she'd planned, if the memory of it was still plaguing her in death.

Revenge, Raito wondered. In the end it's very little about retaliating and very much about feeling wronged. Even if that woman had killed the old man, what would she have gained? As long as the old man hadn't come crying to her, begging for forgiveness on his own volition, she would never feel satisfied, even after killing him. In the end, Raito reached the same conclusion as before. Forced suppression, in the long term, is largely useless. A change of heart is required to really shake a man's foundation.

But by the time he cleared his thoughts and looked at the woman again, he saw her staring at him with wide eyes. It was as though...something...some kind of spark had ignited on her face. There was calmness there – serenity, Raito realized – that hadn't been there before...

And as the woman closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as though to calm herself...Raito watched her body dissipating, fading and then vaporizing...leaving only smoke.

And as she turned into thin air, the trembling old man disappeared along with her, looking at Raito with an expression of mild confusion before his body disappeared. Raito was left standing there, frozen in the middle of the on looking crowd, with his fingers trembling. He hadn't done anything...he'd just...

And then he remembered the scene with the roaring teenager, and the way that kind portly woman had...consoled him, until she finally relieved him.

And just now, had Raito-?

He stared around, looking at various people of the crowd, who were looking at him with the same expressions of gratitude that he'd seen them give the portly lady before. He'd just...relieved someone's nightmare...! Suddenly, he felt a hand pat his shoulder and turned around, to see a genial man with Arabic apparel grin at him and walk away.

Strangely, Raito felt a sense of pride erupt in his heart...a wonderful feeling, which he'd been deprived of for far too long. Actually, the last time he'd possibly felt this kind of true pride was when he'd gotten all his memory back, realizing that his plan to bypass L's interrogations had worked after all.

But right now, he hadn't really been...trying to get involved in someone's nightmare, had he? He'd just...seen a crime about to take place and decided to stop it...

– which was something he probably would have never done when he was alive, he realized.

Confused at his own thoughts, Raito started walking again, trying to shake the strange, rather bizarre feeling off. As he progressed, he heard many more screams, and stood many times to observe the various ways in which people helped get rid of nightmarish hallucinations. And, as strange as it seemed, Raito was interested in each and every individual case, eager to see what would happen and whether the situation would be suppressed – and if it could, then how could it be done?

He'd come to the conclusion, after watching all of the different nightmares, that most people were suffering from thoughts of guilt, and unfulfilled wishes. Also, he'd realized that, as long as no one interfered with a hallucination, the nightmare would play on indefinitely, repeating itself over and over until someone from the crowd took pity or attempted to solve the problem. If the problem could not be solved with the help of a person, then the hallucination did not dissipate, staying there and replaying...for all eternity and for the entire world to see, Raito guessed.

It appeared that languages were never a problem in Mu, since, whatever nationality or from whatever historical era people originated, they seemed to understand the hallucinations perfectly. Raito, for example, had always spoken Japanese to hallucinations until now. And it was working quite well.

As he walked forward and even more time passed – the sky becoming darker and shadows becoming even more accentuated – he started to become exasperated. He could find no familiar faces, and certainly not Misa's. As he thought of the vastness of the crowd, and the fact that many people from the ancient times were still here and had not found their 'soulmate', as Raito cynically liked to call it, he started to despair. What was the purpose of only being allowed to talk to people he already knew? If he was going to find his 'soulmate', then being unable to talk to people was spoiling the idea of the whole thing, wasn't it?

He helped solve a few hallucinations, and as he walked, couldn't help but wonder if the people he saw in these nightmares really existed somewhere in this huge crowd...and would they recognize him if they say him? Probably not...paradoxically enough, the only way for him to communicate with others until now was to try and solve their psychological problems – not talk to them. He wondered if he'd that woman had found her sister, Katrina, in the afterlife, and if they were happy now. With a very strange thought, Raito thought he'd like to see them again, or at least verify that that woman was happy now, at least. That not all of her life had been quite as nightmarish.

Were his own nightmares being displayed somewhere at this very moment, he wondered. If so, he doubted there was anyone able to make them dissipate. His nightmares were... a bit too strong. Who would be able to stop the Hands? Surely no human.

He'd walked a long way before he realized that he wouldn't be able to return to the wooden hut he'd started in. He'd lost his sense of direction in this maze, inevitably. But in any case, he took comfort. There were countless crevices and dark corners around, as well as buildings that he wanted to explore but had never gotten the chance to do so. Surely he would find a place to sleep. The only problem was that he might completely become lost in the maze, and be forced to pass by the same people and the same locations he'd already seen.

Luckily, in this plethora of misfortune there was something fortunate: the most humungous buildings around, such as the Twin Towers and that huge Buddha, served as points of reference. Even if Raito lost his way in the small narrow streets, he'd at least manage to place himself in relation to these huge sights, and would manage to set his course.

This world had turned out to be...much more interesting in its panic than Raito had initially thought. True, it was horrific, but it was also...engaging. It was full of puzzles to solve, arcane personalities to uncover...He watched a new hallucination – a nightmare full of spiders and scared children – dissipate with the help of an old woman. Raito found himself thinking, strangely enough, that he was so fascinated by these hallucinations and their endless variety – the variety of human fantasy and human memory – that, even if he ended up never finding Misa, or Takada...or any person who was searching for him – then at least, he'd still have a purpose...If he made it the purpose of his existence to solve these mysteries and become better at resolving hallucinations...what if he could eventually become the one man capable of delivering Mu from all it's nightmares? Raito was sure that he had the mental power to achieve it!

If worse came to worst, he could make it push the idea of heaven at a second fate, and make the hallucinations his primary goal. After all, what would he do in heaven? Eat plenty of rice, watch pretty belly dancers and be peaceful in a salubrious happy place for the rest of eternity? Pfft – that kind of eternity would be so boring! Mu seemed much more real and complex, much more multi-layered than that. At least in here he felt he had a purpose, he thought, as excitement started to make his arteries pump harder.

Then, all of a sudden, completely unexpectedly as Raito was walking, something happened. Something that hadn't happened in a long, long...long...time.

Raito's eyes widened as he realized it. Frantically – if a bit comically, considering the circumstances – he started looking for a small crevice, or dark alley somewhere – although he despised dark alleys, which reminded him of-...

But he needed to go somewhere, somewhere where he could have some privacy, at least.

Finally, he detected an appropriate place. Without thinking about it much, since the need was most precipitant, he dived toward the small dark road at the side of a wrecked building. And then, trying to hide himself from the surreptitious glances of the various pedestrians, he relieved himself quickly.

Well, he thought a bit confusedly, as he zipped his worn trousers back up. Biological needs hadn't appeared in his body for...quite a long time...so it was strange that they now reared their ugly little head. Having existed without them, Raito could now freely admit that they were actually more of a hassle than they were worth. However, just as he was thinking cynical thoughts, Raito saw various people on the street walking with shrivelled fruits in their hands or ambling hand-in-hand toward dark places – in the case of a man and a woman – or sleeping at the sides of the road...he realized that this wasn't a problem that only he was encountering. Everyone around him seemed to be facing their own brand of problems.

So instead of questioning the situation, and thinking about the various tired, worn or unhappy faces he saw around him – faces of people who must have stayed here for a long time, without finding the person who was looking for them – he set out to walk again. Even though he was new to this routine, he still hoped that he wouldn't become as tired and grim as those people. Even though he wanted to stay here and see – and solve – as many hallucinations as he could, he still retained some hope...some careful slivers of hope...that he would find Misa. After all, trying to encourage himself was nice and all...but when it really came down to it, they must call it 'heaven' for a reason, right? And he wanted to have a chance at it, at least...

Oh everything was so confusing...that's why he'd favoured being a pragmatisitc when he'd been alive. Wouldn't everything be so much simpler – and admittedly, so much more futile – if Ryuuku had been right all along and if it was truly that once human died they became 'nothing'. Apparently, Raito's and Ryuuku's understanding of nothing had differed crucially.

As he walked, the faces around him were all the same. Regardless of who had been powerful, popular, rich or poor when they were alive on earth, now, in death, they were all equal...doesn't really matter after you cross the threshold of death. People dressed as thugs and women dressed like the ladies of the Court of the Queen of England were walking in the same street, wearing the same expression. After death, there is absolute justice, and everything is given in equal share. At least, Raito appreciated that.

At least here, no person could truly exploit another person. Apparently, whatever Trial each human undergoes after death seems to rob him completely of the desire to stay separated from the others.

This was rather helpful, when one comes to think about it. Whenever there was a nightmare or a monster around the corner in the land of the Dead, the common goal of the crowd was to vanquish it. And if the crowd were too frightened of it, they left it alone and tried to ignore it. But eventually, Raito was willing to bet, no matter how careless one is...they will be forced to deal with these monsters and hallucinations that were plaguing them.

Even if they didn't deal with other people's problems, then, at the very least, they didn't rub salt in the wounds, as the Living often do.

**-**

It was the first time in his entire life – and death, for that matter – that Raito had slept in the street.

He didn't like to think of it as 'sleeping in the street' and rather preferred the term 'sleeping beneath the stars'. He'd found a relatively isolated spot being a building near the broad high street. As he had discovered, this world was not as one-dimensional as he'd initially thought. He was allowed to walk anywhere he wanted, with the particularity that if he chose to leave the crowd of people, he would enter a more quiet, serene world – the world Raito had first seen when he arrived here.

So he left the crowd and walked around a building, evading all the fuss. However, the world of Mu beyond the crowded streets was an endless reserve of nature – a primitive world, a desert full of forest-like oases, jungles and roaming animals – _all _kinds of animals, Raito thought, as he remembered the Tasmanian tiger wolf he'd seen, a species long extinct from the Earth. He was willing to bet that the forests of Mu probably were the forests that had been burnt in the living world, and died. The same stood for the animals – all animals that had died on Earth were now roaming this land. Even the starts ornamenting the nocturnal sky were probably the stars that had blinked out of existence in the living world.

In fact, Raito liked to think of Mu as a version of 'Dead Earth', as he'd come to call it. It wasn't like Earth per se, since the ground did not seem spherical, and the horizon was literally endless. Mu was probably a discus like the one the ancients had imagined – a huge flat surface travelling the universe – the Dead universe, of course, Raito sarcastically thought. But it resembled Earth in the sense that it incorporated all the elements that had comprised Earth's terrain and biosphere. And in the central parts of Mu, clustered in the streets and buried in their nightmares, walked the humans. The Homo sapiens. Because of course, just as he'd been roaming around the closest oasis an hour ago, along with the tiger wolf, Raito had managed to catch his first glimpse of another kind of human entirely. Sure enough: Homo erectus, three of them crawling around in the darkness like the monkey-brains they are. Safe to say that Raito didn't exactly sleep calmly that night, what with the shadows of primitive creatures roaming the edges of the jungle-like oasis close by.

Although, if he really thought about it, he had nothing to be afraid of. He was dead already, was he not?

And now, isolated and calm, with a wonderful view of the forest and the stars – the stars that had probably been extinguished in the living world and now shone only for Mu – Raito could rest. He was aware, of course, that as he allowed himself to fall into the open arms of Morpheus, there may be many people who he could recognize, who may be searching for him – passing through the crowd. And by sleeping, he was losing the chance to meet these people.

But he took comfort in the fact that he had seen most people head out of the streets, receding into the muted calmness of Mu for the night, only to resume their search in the morning. It seems they were all subject to their biology, in the end.

But as darkness fell around him during the four fitful hours of sleep – the first genuinely autonomous calm sleep Raito had been granted since his death – all the good thoughts that had flooded his mind during the day started to submit to dark, doubtful musings.

For how long would he be forced to search for Misa, the person who might be searching for him? Even though he'd enjoyed solving problems and alleviating hallucinations...for how long could he continue doing it without despairing? And how was he ever going to find Misa if he wasn't even sure she was here or not? Most likely, if Leeru's words were true, then Misa had been turned into a Shinigami...and since there was no other person who may be looking for him, except perhaps his parents...what would he do?

He turned his face upwards, looking at the stars for answers. But then, some kind of movement drew his attention. He squinted in the darkness and saw, in the distance, the door of a wooden hut open. Out walked the shadow of a human. Even though Raito couldn't see his face, he was willing that it was wary and frightened. It seems that people arrived in this place even at night, Raito thought. Raito belatedly realized how lucky he'd been to come to Mu during the day.

The memory of that cockroach still stung him, and he shivered lightly in the cold air, squeezing his body in a curled position, in a largely failed attempt to warm up. Perhaps those who slept in the crowded streets had a better time sleeping, but Raito doubted the streets would be much better, what with all the screaming from the hallucinations.

Thankfully, during the night, as long as one didn't stay near other people...there were no foreign nightmares.

Only your own.

-

Raito felt something wet and smelly touch his cheek. But his mother had never tried to splash water on his face in order to wake him up...therefore...

Raito opened one eye, sleepily.

«Ugh!» he shouted, instantly shooting up and pushing himself backwards, when he came face to face with the eager snout and wagging tail of a roaming...creature. Dogs!! How they annoyed him! They were smelly, cheery, they liked licking people and they were just...all wrong for him!

«Mutt...» he murmured angrily and pushed the dog away as he searched for something with which to wipe the saliva off his face. Finally, becoming exasperated, he grabbed his green blazer and rubbed it on his face, feeling generally disgusted – both with himself and stray animals. He noticed, disgruntled, that the smell emitted from his clothing was anything but flowery. In fact...he reeked of sweat, dirt and exhaustion from top to bottom. Sleeping with one's clothing is not a good idea, much less in Mu. Raito wondered if he could search around and find a set of 'dead clothes' he could wear. But when he realized that he was seriously considering this option he immediately decided he was simply much too tired for this kind of thing.

He looked at the stray dog with a look of mild disgust and exasperation – the dog was a rather pathetic one, with brown fur full of fleas and patches of fur completely absent – and it stared back at him curiously, with its questioning wide chestnut eyes.

Raito shook his head, trying to deny that he had fallen to the level of weighing the reactions of a dog.

Dragging his feet upwards to stand, he pressed the balls of his hands against his eyes. Then he suppressed a stretch, trying not to look like a lazy good-for-nothing, even though there was no one watching. 'Isn't there any water around here?' he wondered as he felt the itch on his face. Finally, he detected a small well – rust-coloured, as was everything in this side of Mu – and walked to it, sighing.

Well, another day was starting. It had taken a long time for him to fall asleep last night, because of the thoughts that had been torturing him – and the animals that had been looking at him. But now, in the light of day – emitted by some unknown source, but surely not the sun – Raito's existence seemed more significant again. The mild desperation of the night lifted like a dark cloud, and, as he heaved the bucket upwards he felt better. That was until he remembered what had happened yesterday, and his previous unfortunate encounter with the water of Mu. He certainly didn't want to wash his face with a batch of cockroaches this morning.

Even the thought of it brought a chill to his spine, and he found himself looking around surreptitiously, as though expecting the freak of nature to appear in any minute. However, looking at the reflection of his hair in the bucket of water, the only freak of nature around him this morning was himself. And perhaps the mutt.

Deciding that he needed to test the quality of the water before using it on his body, he carefully spilled it to the ground, noting the fact that it seemed completely normal. Before he could bend downwards and touch it, the dog had already bounced forward, making strange noises on the back of its throat and trying to drink water from the ground.

'_Stupid animal.' _Raito thought sourly, as he tossed the bucket back in the well and started heaving it upwards again. He was trying to kick the retched dog away from his crotch, and wasn't paying proper attention to the bucket. As such, when Raito finally turned around to see the bucket he had raised, he yelped.

«Argh!!» he lurched backwards, watching the horror. The bucket was...was full of...those things. Those...cockroach things. They were rearing their ugly heads around, climbing on one another. And the longer Raito held the bucket in place, the more cockroaches seemed to appear, until they were practically bursting out of the bucket and trying to climb on the rope Raito was holding, cackling evilly with their screechy voices the whole time.

Reflexively, Raito let go of the rope, and took a few steps backwards as he listened to the satisfying sound of the bucket hitting the bottom of the well. He was panting, his chest heaving up and down continuously. The dog was whining softly, licking at Raito's knuckles, but the man didn't notice. He was frozen staring at the well. When a few seconds passed and nothing was happening, Raito shook his head, wondering how he could have been so stupid as to sleep next to a source of water. He was definitely sleeping in the street tomorrow.

Shaking his head lightly, he didn't even have the energy kick the dog for making a mess of his hand. Instead, he just wordlessly started walking toward the street and the gathered groups of silent people, wiping his hand in that poor mangled sweater of his. Not only was he not feeling refreshed after his little accident with the water – he was feeling worse than before. However, just as he was about to submerge himself back to the crowd, a movement on the far left side caught his attention, and he turned around.

There were people walking out of the streets toward the forests. There were some people out here too, in this forlorn side of Mu, and they were walking alone in the forest, Raito realized. Of course, they were much fewer than the ones on the street, and they didn't seem to interact with each other. Each person seemed to be in their own little world, enjoying the isolation.

Was this an alternative existence, Raito wondered. Staying isolated...not even trying to find the person who may be searching for you? How long would that person wait for you...? Did these people not want to be found, Raito wondered. Or perhaps they had tried, but were too frightened to enter the crowd of people again, and come in conflict with other peoples' nightmares...? Or perhaps...they had given up hope?

In any case, Raito noted this information, realizing that, even if he found himself unable to withstand a prolonged existence within this crowd of people...then at least he may find solace by staying completely alone.

However, the more he thought about that option, the worse he felt, for some reason.

As he walked toward the street, the mutt, who had been following him until now, mercifully turned and ran away. Raito grinned mirthlessly, realizing that even animals were too afraid to tread amongst the hell of human collision. However, just as he was pondering this, there was a sudden demanding growl heard, as Raito's stomach made its presence known.

Wonderful, he thought unhappily, now he was filthy, tired and hungry as well. He had to find some kind of routine for his needs. If he was going to be spending a long time living – or rather, existing – here, then he would need to find food resources, like a place to eat and wash.

He walked into the street, and was immediately greeted by the – by now familiar – sounds of terrified screaming. The world around him, predictably, switched from warm to icy colours. The streets of Mu, Raito thought, looked like an old black and white movie. The sky was icy grey, with dark graphite clouds, the shadows of the buildings on the paved grey street were completely, unnaturally black...Even the apple trees and their shrivelled apples barely had some colour. And even so, the world around seemed colourful, overwhelmed by the hues of different humans and different nightmares.

The bizarre staircases had a fluorescent green colour, as did many of the neon signs on the buildings. And the more time passed, the more dark the sky became, the more colourful the world seemed to grow.

Raito had conveniently forgotten what it had felt like to be pushed and shoved around by frightened people he couldn't talk to. Thinking that it was too early in the day for a panic like this would not help solve the problem. And also, the fact that he had just come face to face with a man sitting on a wheelchair with his wrists cut and a woman sitting beside him crying her eyes out was also not helping.

Raito tore his eyes away from the sight. Even though he knew he technically should try resolving the hallucination, he decided to tend to his basic needs first. There were plenty of hallucinations for him to take care of any way. Instead, he should search for something to eat...

Conveniently, just as he was shoved to the side by yet another terrified-looking pedestrian, Raito's eyes caught sight of something: the trees. The trees were tall and sturdy, very healthy-looking... but the fruit they carried was either rotting, or disgustingly shrivelled! Raito noticed that most people had no qualms about this, picking the shrivelled things and eating them eagerly despite their horrid appearance. One would have thought that the trees would run out of food, eventually, but apparently, each time a person picked a fruit from the tree, another fruit grew in another part of the tree. In this way, the residents of Mu were consistently supplied with a steady source of nutrients.

He wondered at the sheer insanity of the entire situation. Wasn't he already dead to the world? Why would he need nutrients? Apparently, this was just a simulation of his normal needs during life. He was willing to wager that it was impossible for him to get any older than the age he had been when he died, or to perish from malnourishment. This hunger, just like everything else in this place, was simply here to make his existence more difficult. He remembered what Ryuuku had told him once that Shinigami's bodies had become advanced enough as to have no need for food. And yet, Ryuuku seemed to enjoy eating apples...

Was it gluttony? The simulation of hunger? What was it?

And it was a fact that, even though he knew he wouldn't die from deprivation, Raito really was extremely hungry.

Discouraged by the lack of edible food on the trees, and thinking it probably wouldn't be self-respectful – not to mention plausible – to try and fry the mutt he'd seen this morning, he decided that he should test the buildings surrounding the road. Perhaps he may find something to eat – or even better, somewhere to bathe – in there, although he personally couldn't see how it was possible that there were functional structures in this place.

And even though he'd seen a few horrified-looking people running out of buildings yesterday, today, faced with this multitude of problems, he was feeling up to the challenge. After all, it would only be logical if these buildings contained something useful, and were not there just as ornaments.

So he selected the most inconspicuous looking building around, which reminded him more of a grocery store than anything else. He wasn't naive enough to believe he'd truly discover edible food in there, or he'd have seen people walking down the street with edible food before. However, if he were lucky, he might discover what was going on in each of these buildings. As such, he'd selected the smallest one of all to conduct his test.

With a steady hand, he grabbed the handle of the door and pushed it forward, hearing a bell jingle somewhere overhead. Feeling a bit stiff, and not paying proper attention to his surroundings, Raito almost tripped on the doorstep as he walked in the store. However, no sooner had he heard the sweet chime of the bell overhead, than he froze on his tracks, with one hand holding the door open and his jaw dropped.

This was...this was...

An absolutely normal room!

Everything was natural. No monsters creeping under the stairs, no bloody handprints on the walls. It looked like a very simple, basic apartment. And lo! On the far back, peaking seductively at him from down the hallway, was unmistakably the bathroom, complete with shower and all basic appliances. Raito almost felt his skin itch beneath his clothes, already craving the sweet deliverance of the water. But, despite his urgent needs, Raito gathered his self-control. Perhaps the normalcy of the surroundings was the most suspicious thing about them. Raito wondered what would happen if he let the door close. Would he be trapped in here forever?

It was true that, despite the casual, ordinary appearance, Raito could not be as simple-minded as to dare believe that there was nothing wrong with this place. He had learned that, when things seemed too good to be true, they usually were. If this place was indeed as comfortable as it looked, then Raito wouldn't have seen people screaming and run out of here – of course, when it came to screaming, Raito could perfectly hear people's voices, regardless of whether he knew them or not in life. Well, at least he comforted himself with the knowledge that everyone who he'd seen enter here had eventually come out, albeit horrified. At least he knew he wouldn't be trapped here for eternity, if he decided to enter after all.

His brain – and his heart – both told him that this was a very, very bad idea to begin with. There was a dark, oppressive gloom in the silence of this place, as though the objects inside were suspended in motion. There didn't even seem to be dust in the air.

Even so, Raito was, to put it plainly, very curious, and he couldn't suppress this urge of his. After all, this was the only aspect of the world of Mu that he knew absolutely nothing about. If he managed to unravel the mystery about what takes place in these buildings, then he'd succeed in setting his routine and his course in this world, until he could meet Misa.

Perhaps the promise of a shower also affected his decision to enter. In any case, thinking ahead, Raito decided not to let the door of the building close, in case he found himself the recipient of a nasty surprise after the door shut. The obvious solution to the problem was to put a stopper against the door. Looking around for heavy objects, he quickly caught sight of a brass umbrella stand nearby, which would surely be heavy enough to hold the door.

Working quickly, Raito lodged the heavy object against the door, keeping it open. After that, very carefully, he stepped in the room. When he'd walked five feet in the drawing and still couldn't see anything alarming taking place, he resolved to try and get this over with as quickly as possible. Losing no time, he walked in a brisk pace toward the bathroom, which was located in the end of the hallway.

The air around felt fine, but it seemed as though the entire atmosphere was covered by some kind of stifling, unbearable heat. Raito thought that, if he squeezed his eyes carefully, he could see small black particles in the air. He shook his head immediately, trying to make the cowardly thoughts go away. He'd been through the worst of it, and-

Just as he was thinking to himself that the furniture in this house was quite mundane, he heard the telltale creak of a wooden door, which made him unconsciously jump. Within seconds, he ran toward the living room. However, contrary to what he'd been thinking, the front door hadn't closed. It was just as he'd left it, with the umbrella stand holding it ajar.

Turning slowly backwards, Raito convinced himself to quickly do what he came for and leave this oppressive place at once. He quickly walked back to the bedroom. There was a closet right next to the bed, so Raito proceeded to open it, hoping he may find something to wear. He casually grabbed the metallic handles and pulled them. But the moment the doors opened, an entire avalanche of clothing fell on Raito's head and torso. Raito stumbled backwards, caught unawares at what was happening. When the back of his knees hit the side of the bed, he simply sat down, feeling the warm and bouncy mattress beneath him.

What a lovely difference compared to the rough ground he'd slept on last night. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the small pyramid of clothing now stacked in front of him, as though the closet had just spat them out. He narrowed his eyes carefully, noticing that there were all kinds of clothing there: male and female, clothes for little girls, clothes for a soldier...Raito noticed that the insignia on the military uniform indicated the clothing belong to a Frenchman.

Strangely estranged, and feeling the atmosphere become heavier and darker than ever – everything around him seemed to have a slightly faded out, blue and grey hue – he stood up. He'd changed his mind about borrowing some clothes after a-

But just as he sat up and turned around, he yelped in surprise. There were two people lying on the bed he'd just vacated, obviously an elderly couple cuddling under the comforters. Raito gasped and move backwards, only to stumble and fall over the stack of clothing. His eyes were as wide as saucers staring at the people on the bed. They seemed slightly...faded out. As though the colours of their skin and hair had been taken from an old photograph. Even though Raito could see them speaking to each other, he could hear nothing of their conversation, which only reinforced the strange impression.

And just as Raito was staring at them, he gasped again, because new people had just appeared on the bed. Impossibly, the new couple who'd just appeared was sitting at exactly the same place as the previous one. Somehow, their faces had changed, blended together and-

But just as Raito's mind was jumping madly to different conclusions, he noticed that there were more people around him. There was a man dressed in a soldier's uniform sitting on an armchair at the corner of the room, there was an old woman sitting by the window and knitting, there was another man dressed in a very old fashioned way compared to the other two, pacing back and forth in the room...

And soon, before Raito knew it, there were people everywhere, everywhere! All kinds of different people, dressed in varying styles, were walking around and overlapping with each other. Suddenly, there was an insistent sound, like the screech of television static, echoing from somewhere close by.

Losing no time, Raito stood up and moved out of the bedroom. Coming face to face with the bathroom, and trying to ignore his thumping heart, he remembered the reason he had come here in the first place, and decided to go ahead with his choice.

Walking quickly in the bathroom, he firmly shut the door. The fact that there were people all around outside, even if those people technically couldn't see him, was worrying enough.

So Raito lost no more time, planning to get out of this place as quickly as possible. With his curiosity quenched, he was now ready to return to the street, however horrid it may be. He quickly removed his blazer, tugging it roughly, since it was stuck on his back because of the sweat. He took this opportunity to scratch that horrid itch on his nape, and ran his fingers repeatedly through his hair, tugging at them wildly and making them stand up at gravity defying angles. When he was finally, blissfully, nude, he walked in the shower, not bothering to close the curtain, and simply proceeded to open the water taps.

The sigh that escaped his lips upon the moment the water first hit his neck was one of pure, unadulterated bliss. He stayed there, frozen with his eyes closed, enjoying the smooth sensation. After what must have been at least a couple of minutes, he opened his eyes again.

Only to see that he wasn't alone. There was a little girl with pigtails – the one he'd seen in the bedroom before – her height not surpassing that of the sink, standing in the middle of the room and brushing her teeth. She didn't seem to take notice of Raito at all, and she continued happily, rinsing her mouth. Raito, not really accustomed – at least not since Sayu had entered elementary – to been accompanied by little girls in the shower grabbed the curtain and closed it harshly.

He would not let this break him, he told himself, realizing that the ghosts that infested this house – probably the ghosts of all the people who had lived here, in all different eras, where still in here...as memories. However, even though he steeled himself and his resolve, his heart was hammering in his chest, and his fingers were trembling over the taps. He could see, even through the curtain, the shadows of various people out side the shower – not only of the girl, but of an old woman, a younger one, the soldier man who was wearing his dressing robe...Raito gritted his teeth, his hand gripping the faucet. The water that had soothed him so much before now felt like air on his back – as though the sensation had completely evaporated.

But as Raito raised his other hand to increase the flow of hot water, he saw that...that...

A hand was already there. Gasping involuntarily, the man turned around, only to realize that...

There was an old man in the shower...right next to Raito. No, the old man's body was actually even passing _through _Raito's...

The auburn haired man, with his wet hair now almost black coloured, lodged himself in the corner of the shower, trying to keep his distance. But no sooner had he moved away, than he saw yet another person, a young woman, appear in the shower as well, her body overlapping with that of the old man.

Raito wanted to move outside, but he knew that, if he did, he'd have to pass through their bodies...and he didn't want to...The entire surface of his body was now trembling, partly because of the coldness of his wet state and partly because of what he was seeing. And the worst of it was that...there was no sound. It was as though...as though...Raito was alone in this house...when he actually wasn't.

He was neither alone, nor did he have company...he was-

But before he could take his thinking process any further, yet another two people appeared in the shower. And this time, they were a couple. Raito turned his head reflexively away as they started rutting right next to him. Of course...they had no idea he was there. None of these people...these were all...ghosts. Memories.

Was this what a haunted house looks like? A place where the ghosts are unobtrusive and never care about the presence of the others? Where there ghosts in every old building...? Were there- Unable to take it anymore, he gritted his teeth, making the muscles in his jaw pump, and lunged forward with his hand outstretched. He pushed the curtain away with one fluid movement and decisively walked through the half-translucent bodies of the people gathered in the shower.

However, the sight that greeted him outside was completely beyond words. There were neither one nor two people in the bathroom. There were dozens. Masses of them, on the toilet, brushing their teeth, applying deodorant, checking their sexy lingerie. And Raito was entirely naked, facing this. And even thought they couldn't see him...in this huge crowd...he was the only one who did not fit.

His clothes, which he had carefully placed on a nearby towel hanger, where still exactly where he'd left them, with the only difference that there were foreign clothes now placed above them – the clothes just as translucent and faded-out as their owners. Without thinking about it, Raito reached for his clothes, trying not to run, since the floor was slippery and his feet still wet. He thought of exiting the bathroom, but knew that he'd probably find more of them outside that he did here.

Closing his eyes and forcing himself to breathe normally – or as slowly as possible under the circumstances – he quickly finished putting his clothes on. But his body was still wet, and the clothes still unwashed. And the hot fumes which made the bathroom air suffocating weren't helping the cloth slide faster over his slick skin.

He turned to look directly at the wall, ignoring what was happening around him and trying to convince himself that he was behaving like an insane person. He didn't find the courage to blame himself, however. Finally, when he'd successfully managed to pull his blazer over his lean abdomen, he lost no time in opening the door roughly and walking outside.

And sure enough, true to his predictions, there were people everywhere, overlapping with each other as they walked around the apartment. Some of them Raito recognized, some others not. Without thinking about what he was seeing, and feeling his insides tighten impossibly. Thankfully, he was wearing his shoes again, so he had the choice to run. And run he did because, unexplainably, even though nothing untoward was directly happening to him, he didn't wish to remain in this place a moment longer.

The door was ajar, just as he'd left it. And when he finally walked outside, meeting the bleak lighting of the street and the new crowds of people he couldn't communicate with he truly felt an edge of paranoia start to grow in his mind.

He really did feel like shouting, or screaming, but he held it in, knowing that everyone would hear. Trying to tell himself he wasn't quite as cowardly as that. Turning around to stare at the inside of the house through the half-open door, he noticed that, predictably, everything seemed normal. The house appeared completely empty on the outside. On the far back, Raito could see the bathroom light open and the water running, just as he'd left them. Seeing the house now, one would think that Raito was insane, and had been hallucinating all along.

Raito turned around immediately, walking away without looking back and feeling a sick feeling overcome his innards. Who'd just invaded whose privacy? What had just happened?

In this entire crowd of people, Raito thought, as he looked back and forth in the huge throng of the crowd, how could it be that he felt so utterly, oppressively, indisputably alone.

He was, wasn't he? Just like he'd been in that house. Surrounded by other people – practically suffocated by them...but ultimately, could he communicate with anyone? Could anyone see him? Did anyone care enough for him to search and find him?

No. No. No.

He was, in the end, all alone.

That's what he thought, and stopped walking mid-step. He raised his arm and rested it on the bark of a nearby tree. The wood felt dry and wrinkled under his fingers. He closed his eyes and sighed.

-

«Johnson? Johnson is that you!? Oh, Johnson!!» a voice suddenly echoed from somewhere, and Raito, as well as a few others, turned around to see a woman and a man hugging each other tightly.

«Cindy!» the man echoed, his voice almost a cry of relief.

It happened occasionally – they'd witness the reunion of those few people who were lucky enough to find the one who was looking for them. At those times, when two real people around where actually talking to each other, everyone around could hear their voices.

Raito grinned once again as he observed the looks of jealousy and envy that the people around were shooting the fortunate duo. He'd grin to hide his own covert envy.

He didn't know how many days had passed since he'd first come here, but they were plenty. Enough for his face to grow stubble – something which hadn't even happened during the month Ryuuzaki had confined him in prison. Therefore, he must have been in Mu for more than a month..

One month of searching...and one month of failing. Again and again and again.

Of course he'd recognized a few people by now. For example, he'd seen Namikawa some weeks ago, that long haired she-man who'd been in the board of the Yotsuba Corporation. At first Raito had been overjoyed, thinking that he at last had his chance to speak to someone. Unfortunately, however, this glee had lasted until Raito had remembered exactly on what terms he and Namikawa had parted. Would the man remember Raito's betrayal? Had he forgiven Raito for killing him? Had he forgiven Raito enough to wish to search for him?

The possibility seemed more than a little unlikely, since Raito and that man had hardly ever been close.

That was the first time Raito had avoided someone he could have spoken to, knowing that it would be useless to talk to them. He'd killed them – wasn't this enough to cultivate afterlife-long distaste? Over the course of the next few weeks, Raito had seen more of these people – and he remembered killing them. He'd avoided them all, turning his face away. Entering a building was obviously not a choice when trying to escape, since it would probably result in making one more noticeable than before when one came running out of the accursed place. So Raito always stayed on the street, subtly manoeuvring and evading a bunch of people he could have spoken to, recognizing the damage his Kira policy had done to his reputation.

Who would want to talk to their murderer? Perhaps the saddest thing was that most of these people didn't even know that Raito had killed them. But even so, Raito had hardly met anyone who he believed he could have asked for help. So he stayed alone, and focused instead on the other aspect of the world of Mu: the hallucinations. He liked to think of it as his occupation, much like he'd thought of the Death Note. At some point, he'd become so disappointed with searching for Misa, that he'd decided to dedicate his energy on the hallucinations and try to resolve each and every one he could see.

Raito felt the hair on his nape stand on end as he remembered one particular hallucination, which had involved a woman giving birth to a rabbit instead of a human child.

The hallucinations in this place, Raito had realized, where the absolute epitome of human fantasy. Even though some of them seemed realistic, it was impossible to judge whether they were a product of fantasy or an actual memory. After a few days, Raito liked to think that it was all pure fantasy, that nothing was real. He had to think like this if he wanted to keep going. At some point, he'd been very close to abandoning the effort all together, and simply resigning himself to this world. He'd thought he could exit the crowded streets and start enjoying an isolated existence in the forests, away from all other humans – and their nightmares.

But in the end, he reasoned with himself, where would that course of action lead? Nowhere. If he wanted at least a small chance at changing his current situation, resignation was not the answer. He had to persevere this continuous madness, and find a way to combat it.

He had taken to sleeping at the crowded streets come nightfall, except for some times when he simply couldn't put up with the screaming anymore and was forced to walk away from the street. He only ever entered a building when a bath became absolutely imperative, which was not all that often. In the meantime, the hunger was crippling him. After the first few days, when he'd starved, he'd decided that, compared to nothing at all, the shrivelled fruits from the trees were very satisfying.

They had no taste, and felt like paper melting in his mouth. Even though he ate, it didn't seem like his hunger was being alleviated. And even though his stomach was technically full, the agonizing gluttony was increasing tenfold with each unsatisfying meal. Days passed, days during which he walked amongst the nightmares, and imagined how he must look from the outside, as one of the endless cattle of wraith-like zombies.

Strangely, even though he was all alone, and longed for the comfort of mutual communication, he avoided it whenever it was freely offered to him, feeling more awkward and uncomfortable when faced with it than he did elated. Truly, an isolated existence like this was incredibly difficult...but at least it was safe. Who knows what may happen in this place when you allow yourself to become involved with someone else, Raito kept wondering, trying to ease his guilt at avoiding people.

Until, finally, after endless weeks of walking and occupying himself with hallucinations, trying to resolve disputes and accustom himself to this new, ghostlike existence, someone saw _him_.

Raito had been calmly staring at a hallucination when he raised his gaze that day, only to see Matsuda's round amber eyes fixed on his face. This man standing in front of Raito right now looked many years older than the Matsuda Raito had remembered, and Raito could only assume that Matsuda had died when he'd been older.

But even if there were wrinkles all over his face, those cowed naive eyes were still distinctive. Overall, however, judging by the newfound sombreness in the way he stood, Matsuda must have changed as well in some abstract way. Raito recognized him within a few seconds. Then he stood there, practically frozen, wondering what his old colleague must be thinking upon seeing him, the great Kira, now standing alone in the street – like all other humans.

For the first time in a long time, Raito wondered if, perhaps, he should approach the other person. After all, he and Matsuda had worked together. And even though the man Raito was now seeing didn't really look like the one he remembered, perhaps the two of them could still...that is, if Matsuda still didn't hold a grudge against Raito for being Kira...

Without realizing it, Raito had started moving forward. However, he hadn't even managed a few steps before he saw Matsuda moving backwards, a slightly guarded expression on his face.

Raito froze in his tracks, realizing his miscalculation...A muscle pumped in his jaw, and he clenched his fists, aware that his gestures must indicate nervousness but unable to stop himself. So he'd been right when he'd tried to avoid all the people he'd seen before...just like Matsuda, they didn't want to talk to him. He'd been right all along to avoid contact with them...and he cursed himself for not doing it again.

Raito opened his mouth slightly, as though to say something. A few uncomfortable moments passed. And then, finally, Matsuda gave a slight nod, as though acknowledging something. Had Raito been focusing more on the other's reactions and less on his inner rant, he would have realized that the other man was looking at him more with a gaze of silent respect rather than the mute derision Raito was imagining.

But as it was, because of his mental plight and momentary self-depreciation, Raito failed to detect the warmth in Matsuda's eyes and the small smile the older man was giving him. In Raito's mind, the expression seemed like a mocking one.

Not waiting for anything else to happen, Matsuda slowly walked past Raito, continuing toward the opposite direction of the street. Raito stayed there, standing still without even blinking. He must have stood in the same place for longer than he realized, because the next time he actually came back to his senses the sky was dark and the neon lights bright on the buildings of Mu.

Realizing he could hardly get any work done today, Raito found a dark orifice in some obscure corner of the street – that was not already occupied – and lay down slowly. His resolve, which he had carefully constructed in order to persevere through these hard times, was now crumbling extremely quickly.

This was hopeless, he thought. If even Matsuda, who was the most naive and compassionate of all the people who'd known Raito, did not wish to speak to the other...then perhaps Raito was really wasting his time here. There was no way he'd ever find anyone who'd be searching for him, or trying to talk to him. After all, who had he met during his life, except Misa and Takada, who was interested in him as a person, not as a genius?

Huddled in his narrow sleeping quarters, Raito unconsciously let his head drop between his knees. What was he trying to do here, anyway, he wondered in vibrant weariness. Find Misa? How would he find her? Was she even here or had she turned Shinigami? Did he even have a chance or was it all in his head? And since it was now certain, after his little encounter with Matsuda earlier, that there was no one else – especially from those who'd known Raito was Kira – who would want to associate themselves with Raito now.

Misa was the only one who'd accept him while knowing who he was...not even Takada would accept him, Raito thought, because even though she'd respected his status as Kira, he'd gone and killed her. Now she'd surely hate him. There was no way she'd be searching for him, except perhaps if she wanted to punch him in revenge.

And as he sat there, enveloped in the darkness, his thoughts of despair and doubt started to gain supernatural magnitude in his mind, to the extent that it suddenly seemed to him as though his whole existence was hopeless.

'_This is useless...' _he started thinking, gritting his teeth and letting his fingers sink in the cold ground beneath him – dead ground. '_There is no way I'll ever find her...maybe I should just leave this place once and for all, before any more damage is done..._' Raito thought of Matsuda's face, which, in Raito's imagination, had gained a sardonic smile. Raito felt the desperation grip him all over again: '_They hate me...they still hate me...I'll never find Misa, and there is no one else who would...'_

Suddenly, it seemed as though he couldn't breathe, because there was some kind of weight in his chest. This sensation was amazing, he managed to think through his panic. It felt as though there really was something chained to his heart, dragging it downwards – it was actually a physical pain. He'd only felt this aggravating – and yet truly astonishing – sensation once before, when he'd seen the demon who looked like himself shatter Misa's marionette.

That night, Raito fell asleep listening to each and every scream that echoed from outside, wondering the whole time if walking down this street was, perhaps, not meant for him after all.

-

But it seems that Raito would forever remain a slave of his own great intelligence, and his own will to conquer. Because the next morning, despite the fact that the bones in his legs and teeth were actually aching from the emotional pressure, he continued walking down the street.

Apparently, even when his internal monologues told him to give up and suggested that the logical thing would be to abandon the effort, deep down, his subconscious mind _still_ made him continue. He just couldn't find it in himself to leave and resign himself to absolute, isolated submission.

Naturally, his determination was wavering. But when it came down to his course of action, the only thing he could really do was move forward. After all, he needed to find some kind of purpose in his existence, to keep himself from going insane. What purpose would he find if he went outside, to wander aimlessly in the forests and jungles of Mu? At least here, in the street, despite the panic and accentuated loneliness, the hallucinations gave him something to think about. Something to do.

He'd walked past the Twin Towers some time ago. Now, his next target was the gigantic ship, located on the east. Raito couldn't tell, from this distance, if the ship was the Titanic or not, but it surely qualified in terms of size.

And so he steeled himself and walked, feeding on wrinkled fruit, sleeping in dirty benches and trying not to think of the fact that even Matsuda – even the greatest pushover Raito had ever met – didn't want anything to do with him.

A week later, he'd come significantly closer to the colossal ship. He felt slightly refreshed, since he'd given himself a haircut this morning, using the scissors he'd found in one of the houses – during yet another one of his escapades. In any case, as he was walking down the street, trying to spot a hallucination to resolve, he was suddenly jolted out of his reverie.

«Yagami...Raito? Yagami-kun?»

Having become unaccustomed to conversations aimed at him, it took a moment for Raito to register the small, female voice he was hearing. Finally, when he realized that his name was being called, he turned around immediately, his heart beating madly at the possibility that it might be Misa and he might finally leave this place – in his excitement, he'd forgotten that Misa would never call him by his surname. But the moment he met the sight in front of him, the air was knocked out of his lungs and his heart dropped. Well, it surely wasn't Misa...it was an old lady instead. Raito didn't recognize her from anywhere, and was confused by the fact that he could talk to her.

It crossed his mind that the woman could be a hallucination, but if she were she wouldn't know him by name, nor would she have initiated a conversation with him on her own accord. Hallucinations never approached or interacted with a human – it was always vice versa.

Raito just stayed put, looking at the woman strangely and unwilling to admit he didn't recognize her from anywhere.

«Raito...Yagami Raito, is that you?» she asked, with a voice of amazement. Raito squeezed his brain to remember her, but couldn't come up with anything.

«Yes...» he spoke quietly, his vocal chords unaccustomed to strain. It seems that somewhere along the line, even though Raito could meet someone he could talk to...he had even lost the ability to carry on a decent dialogue, except when thinking to himself. Apparently, his inability to remember her must have become evident in his tone of voice and awkward way of standing, because the old lady – wearing a dark blue dress and short heeled shoes – spoke again.

«Oh!» the woman suddenly said, as though just realizing something «Of course you wouldn't recognize me...» she said, nodding slightly in realization «I'm Ogasawara Tomoko...from Todai, remember?» she asked again. At the mention of the name, Raito immediately scanned his memory.

Thankfully, he'd always been good with both names and faces.

Of course he remembered her...a girl with dyed auburn hair who was in the science division...She was the one who'd had that affinity for cats. Raito remembered her well, because her best friend, Katou Mai, had had an obvious crush on him.

«Oh...» he said, and his tone was a little stale despite himself «Of course...» he finished, hoping his awkwardness wasn't quite as obvious as he thought.

However, this old lady didn't meet his mental image of Tomoko at all, with her moon-shaped spectacles and calm demeanour. Now that he thought about it, there were some similarities in the facial characteristics, but apart from that...

«Have you had any luck yet?» the girl asked with a friendly smile, and Raito reciprocated without much enthusiasm. After all this time spent in Mu, and especially after his small encounter with Matsuda, he'd found that he'd lost his will to constantly lace his face with fake smiles. What was the point in acting friendly, anyway? There was nothing to hide now...everyone knew he was Kira.

«Found the person who's looking for you?» the woman asked again, jerking Raito away from his thoughts. Annoyed at the question, he sarcastically wondered if she was blind. Couldn't she see that he was alone, like everyone else? This was probably her – unsuccessful – idea of trying to break the ice, Raito reminded himself. He tried to be courteous, just for the sake of salvaging his public image. Obviously, this woman had never found out that he'd been Kira, or else she wouldn't have come to talk to him so casually.

«I can't say I have.» Raito said, and shrugged his shoulders «For now I'm enjoying the sights.» and he pointed at the huge ship behind the woman, who turned to see what he was pointing at. Upon hearing his words, she smiled, and the wrinkles in her face became deeper. Raito supposed that the reason she now looked old was because she'd died as an old lady. Unexplainably, a burst of jealousy erupted within Raito...why couldn't he have lived as long as she did...? Why did he have to face Mu...?

Her voice distracted him from his rather hateful musings.

«Oh, it's a wonder!» she said melodiously, referring to the ship, and Raito realized that her voice sounded youthful despite her old age. Just as Raito was about to ask her how she was faring with her own quest, she spoke again «Have you seen the dinosaurs yet?» she asked, and Raito mentally froze. He tried to keep a nonchalant exterior, however, and asked her carefully.

«Dino...saurs?» perhaps this woman didn't know what she was talking about. Were there really...dinosaurs around her?

«Yes, of course!» she said, nodding «Sometimes, if you walk outside» she pointed towards the direction of a path, which connected the crowded streets to the outside jungle-world of Mu «you can see them. You can see all the animals that became extinct on Earth!»

Raito didn't really want to tell her he'd already figured as much, so he simply nodded.

«But, don't worry, they won't harm you even if you come close to them.» the woman babbled on and, unexpectedly, as he watched her, Raito realized that she must be feeling...nervous. The slightly strained, anxious expression on her face as she tried to find the right things to say was a perfect reflection of the way he was currently feeling. Taking pity on her misery, more from a sense of empathy than anything else, Raito decided to make her more comfortable.

«Oh is that so...?» he asked, nodding along to show he was interested in her words.

«Yes! Of course!» she said with a strained smile, and Raito realized she must have pushed herself to the limit when she came and talked to him out of the blue.

«Well, I suppose that this place has some positive aspects as well...» Raito quietly said, reluctant to talk about the exact nature of this place, or even the general concept of death. Even though he was sure the woman was just as well-accustomed to her situation as he was, he was still reluctant to talk about it.

«Definitely.» the woman said, her tone a tad more natural than before «Even if this place is troublesome, we still get to see all this wondrous things! Actually, I think there are good and bad aspects to everything...even Mu.»

And this was how, Raito stayed and talked to her, at first because he thought if would be kind, and later because he realized he enjoyed it. It was comforting to know that someone was paying attention to him, enough to wish to talk to him. After talking to her for a while, Raito realized that, by the way she was speaking, she must have been in Mu for much longer than he, which was rather strange, judging from the fact that Raito had obviously died much earlier than her.

Raito considered it may be rude to ask her about whether she'd found the person who was looking for her, but then decided that, since she'd asked him, it wouldn't seem impolite.

«So...how is your search going?» Raito asked, expecting the woman to show a disappointed face. But on the contrary, actually, her face suddenly brightened, and she smiled.

«I haven't found that person yet,» she started, and her eyes clouded over as she seemed to be recalling the face of the person she was thinking of «But I will see him very soon.»

Raito looked at her rather strangely. How could she be so certain that she'd find that person in this huge crowd, even though she'd obviously been roaming Mu for a long time? So Raito, realizing he had nothing to lose and nothing to gain, decided to simply voice his incomprehension.

«How can you be so sure?» he asked, and succeeded in keeping his voice even and nonchalant, without even a hint of envy or curiosity. The woman smiled at him in return, and her face was alight with glee.

«Because he and I always had a meeting place.» she answered, nodding «And I'm sure he'll be waiting for me there...so when I find that place, I'll wait for him, and I know he'll come for me.»

Raito nodded, involuntarily feeling the telltale stings of jealousy poke his heart. The certainly in her voice, the determination in her face...it must be nice to view the world of Mu as a small trip, with an actual destination, instead of the chaotic ocean that Raito encountered every day.

It must be nice to have a place to call one's own. Raito had been planning to ask this woman about the buildings in Mu, wondering if she could tell him anything about the ghosts that roamed in each house. But now, hearing her talk to him about her 'special place', he didn't know how to broach the subject. How could he tell her that all the houses he'd been in, all the buildings he'd had the misfortune to enter, they were all laced of memories of people like her. People who'd lived in that space, contaminated it with their memories...

The talked for a long time after that, and the woman's laughter sounded refreshingly like a clear bell when Raito half-heartedly told her about his adventures with the various animals of Mu. Raito noticed that, as he was standing there and talking to her in the middle of the street, various people walking around would periodically turn to look at him with barely concealed envy. Raito belatedly realized that, now that he was speaking to someone, the others could all hear what he was saying.

They talked for the better part of the day, and even though Raito did not particularly enjoy this woman's sense of humour or her clumsy awkwardness, he still stayed there and talked. But even so, as he talked to her, it felt as though he was hiding something – some part of himself. After all, this woman didn't know how he'd died, or what he'd done. She didn't know he was Kira, or that he'd killed with those two hands. To her, he was Yagami Raito, the genius boy who'd entered Toukyo University with a written score of one hundred percent.

She didn't know him. Obviously, she was talking to him precisely _because_ she didn't know him. And strangely, the more time he spent talking to her, the more he mentally began to despair all over again. Because he realized that, obviously, the only way he could actually speak to someone was if they didn't know who he was or what he'd done. The people who he'd worked with, who knew that he was Kira...none of them would wish to talk to him again, as Matsuda's actions had demonstrated.

This was a lost cause. It seemed that he only had two choices: either he would reject his own nature and accept this constant hypocrisy in order to find people to talk to...or he could remain himself – Kira and Raito – and be alone.

This is why his only chance at salvation was Misa, he repeated internally. She was the only one, along with Mikami and Takada, who had accepted him despite knowing his true actions. And since he'd double-crossed Takada and disappointed Mikami, Misa was now his only hope. Ironically, she was the only one who would care enough for him to search for him, despite knowing he was Kira.

By the time the sky began to darken, Tomoko and he had run out of topics to discuss. The woman had talked about the living world, about the things she had seen take place in her lifetime. Raito learned that, while he'd been busy dying and going through Trials, the Earth had been going through tribulations of its own. Judging by Tomoko's words, however, the judicial and legal system must have remained just as pathetic and ineffective as Raito remembered.

But in any case, at this point, this kind of thing hardly concerned him. He had learned that, regardless of criminal nature, all people end up going to the same place after death. Therefore, no one really gets punished for being himself, and society remains imperfect regardless of how many criminals are killed.

«It was nice talking to you...» Tomoko stated, bowing slightly «I wish you the best of luck.»

Raito couldn't help but thing, for the umpteenth time that day that she wouldn't be quite so jovial if she'd known what he'd really done.

«Thank you. And I also wish you the same.» he finished, not straining himself to sound sincere since his tone was already jovial enough «I hope you find that place and meet that person very soon.» he finished, nodding. She bowed again, and smiled at him.

«And in case I don't see you again, Raito-kun,» the woman finished, now in first-name basis after a day of chatting. It was strange to hear his name being called like this by an old lady, since he felt as though it was his grandma calling him, despite the fact that Tomoko was...technically...his age.

«Good bye.» she said, with a small, rather melancholy, smile.

«Good bye.» Raito answered, not thinking much about his words. Only when he saw her small frame moving away in the crowd did he start to understand. The darkness started closing in again, and he realized he was standing alone. He had the absurd urge to run and talk to her again, even though he knew that he didn't particularly enjoy her company.

But still, he didn't want to be alone again, one of the silent people. He didn't want to be one of those who ambled around like ghosts...he wanted to be free. If only he could be allowed to speak to whomever he wished...if only the world didn't have to work with rules. 'You will go to heaven when you find the one who is looking for you'. What does that mean? There may be many people out there looking for him, but Raito would never search for them because he didn't know they were interested.

Well, at least she'd had the courage to come talk to him, and see if he was the one looking for her, he thought sourly. And now, the thought that, as she had said, he might _never, ever _ see her again was starting to sink in. And it wasn't the fact that he would miss her company...it was rather the whole idea that, along with her disappearance, some chapter of his life had just...finished, and would never come back again. Much like time, which doesn't go backwards, and once a birthday is over, it can never come again.

Raito had bypassed all those opportunities to talk to people he had known and now he was feeling a bit remorseful. What if they had been looking for him, despite the fact that he'd killed them? What if he'd underestimated his own effect on people? Maybe the very fact that he'd killed them had made them look for him to get revenge? Would he ever get that chance again...? He was losing time. He was losing opportunities. With every moment that passed...he might be losing...something. He may be losing Misa.

He turned around, raising his head to stare at the huge ship, which was full of lights – a shining beacon in the night.

If only he knew a place where he could find Misa, like Tomoko had said that she knew where to find the one she was looking for. If Raito had cared enough to seriously talk to Misa even once during his lifetime, he might have known where she liked to go, or may have felt assured where to find her. Now he had to work harder, search faster. She was the only person who might be looking for him, and as such, he could not allow himself to lose his chance to find her.

This was serious. Even though the world of Mu was so interesting, and it guaranteed Raito's intrigue...he could not allow himself to lapse. He had to search harder!

For the first time since he'd arrived in Mu, Raito walked during the night. The lights of the ship glowed like the full moon as he walked down the black street. The shapes of the old trees at the sides of the road looked like black, human shadows. At some point, as Raito was walking, he thought he felt something on his left – something like a floating...

He whirled around immediately, with his hands unconsciously raised in a fighting stance. He stayed tense for a few moments, watching. There truly was a shadow behind him...and it was shaped exactly like...like...Raito's heart started beating wildly as he stared at it, his shoulders tense and his jaw pumping.

But then, suddenly, just as Raito was preparing to strike, one of the neon lights around the street flickered to life, illuminating the shadow. Raito realized that it was just a man huddled in the side of the street, covered by a blanket that fell on his shoulders strangely.

Raito tried to calm his heartbeat, unwilling to admit it to himself. But it was true that, at some point, he'd actually thought...that the Grim Reaper was following him again.

The neon light flickered again, casting the shape of the man back to the shadows. That shadow truly was...shaped exactly like Ryuuku. Raito turned around quickly, walking away. He couldn't believe he'd almost punched the thin air. But the more that he thought about it, the more he remembered the way that Ryuuku had been floating around next to him all the time...strangely, the sheer memory of it gave Raito a chill down his spine, even though it had never bothered him before.

This world was strange, he decided, as he walked forward, not allowing himself to look at anything except the various hallucinations around. At times he thought that, despite his need to find Misa and leave this place...he might be better off alone after all.

-

It really was the Titanic. But alas, even though its size was great, Raito had seen bigger ships during his lifetime. The huge ship was steadied on land via a framework of scaffolds. Raito stood there, looking at it with interest. The more he looked at it, the more he found that he wanted to enter it and observe the actual architecture of the interior, as well as the structure of the engines.

However he knew that, unfortunately, if he even tried to go inside he'd immediately be attacked by a multitude of wandering ghosts – the ghosts of the people who had lived inside the ship and, possibly, even died in it. Raito looked around, noticing that there was a great amount of people gathered around, observing the huge structure with marvel. The chestnut haired man even noticed a Mongol soldier standing there, looking completely flabbergasted as he stared at a kind of technology he had probably never seen before.

After staying there for some time, Raito moved away, deciding to continue walking. It had rained the day before yesterday – the most disgusting, grey-coloured rain that Raito had ever seen – and so his clothes had mercifully been refreshed. However, even though some of the filth and stains had been washed away, his blazer was still shredded in multiple places, and his trousers had become a sad excuse for a kitchen mop. Thankfully, his belt was still intact, which was some small consolation.

Also, as he had moved through the world of Mu, he had noticed that there was a sense of geography in this place, however small. The flora and fauna seemed to deviate according to the terrain of the land, which was mountainous in some areas, completely flat in others, and even desert-like in some spots. Tomoko had warned him that there was even a part of Mu full of ice, 'as though it was the North Pole'.

On the one hand Raito wanted to see these things, but on the other hand he knew that, whatever he saw, whatever he heard...it was all...dead. Everything about this place tended to be slightly...off key. The food, for example. Or the deformed cockroaches that seemed keen on attacking Raito whenever he tried to drink water outside. It was as though everything in this place was a fusion of reality, memory and fantasy. Especially within the crowded streets, one could never be sure whether he was seeing a mentally-generated hallucination or a-

«Misa!» Raito suddenly spoke, and his hand automatically shot forward before he could stop himself. He grabbed the small shoulder of the woman in front of him and turned her around rather roughly, only to be greeted by a pug-like nose and two hazel eyes that were certainly not Misa's...

But from behind she'd looked exactly the same...the same height and haircut...

The woman looked at him with a slightly disgruntled stare, and then proceeded to shake his hand off and walk away. Raito paused for a minute, looking at her. Then, he started walking again, his mind sinking in his thoughts.

He was certain that he could recognize Misa very easily, he pondered, as he caught sight of a particular orange tree. Seeing as he was hungry and oranges were the only edible thing in the vicinity, he decided to have one. Moving slowly toward the tree, he took his time trying to select the juiciest of the shrivelled fruit. He remembered the way Tomoko had said that-

Tomoko! He hadn't recognized her at first... had he?

And just as he had taken the orange in his hand, a horrible idea occurred to him: what if Misa had lived much longer than he had? What if she'd grown older, and Raito would be unable to recognize her?

_What if he'd already seen her without recognizing her!?_

How could he have been so stupid so as not to consider the possibility earlier! Of course, he felt comforted by the fact that Misa, after conducting the Eyeball Trade two consecutive times, must have had a significantly short lifespan...however, what if she'd still grown old enough to become unrecognizable to Raito...what if...?

But thankfully, even if he didn't recognize her, at least she would recognize him...at least he hadn't changed at all since the last time...this thought was some small comfort to him.

But still, the very thought that his entire journey until now could have been for nothing almost brought him to his knees. What if he'd already seen her? It would be virtually impossible to meet her again...had he lost his chance? Had he lost everything? As he walked, he was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost stumbled against a tree. And this situation continued for the rest of noon, as he ambled around, distracted, almost starting to panic.

But since he was moving at such a slow pace, and was paying more attention to the hallucinations than the other pedestrians, he ended up not having moved as far from the ship as he'd planned. By the time the evening had come, with its warm orange-grey sky and black clouds, he had made very little progress. Realizing that he was not in the proper state of mind for travelling, he started thinking of finding a place to rest for a while. Losing no time, and feeling unexplainably drained, he began looking around for some quiet place to sit. Unfortunately, however, Mu was always crowded and stuffy. And especially during the day. So all the available places were already occupied, usually by old geezers or the darker hallucinations.

It had become a habit by now for Raito to scan the faces of the people around him at all times, just in case he might catch a glimpse of Misa. Recently, he'd begun considering other possibilities, like his family: his father, mother or sister...they'd surely forgive him even if he was a murderer...they were family, for goodness sake. As such, perhaps he should abandon the quest for Misa and start looking for his father or mother, instead. At least he would surely recognize them. He wasn't so sure about Sayu, since the memories of his Trial had not yet faded, and since he wasn't sure he would recognize her to begin with.

This situation was annoying...why couldn't everyone in Mu have the same age? Why did people have to remain the same age as the time they died?

He'd just found a comfortable-looking place beneath the shadow of a tree. Seeing as he still hadn't found the time to sit and enjoy – as much as he could – his orange, he decided he might as well take this opportunity. As usual, he'd imagine a nice meat bun while eating his fruit, pretending he was actually eating something he even remotely enjoyed.

As he walked slowly through the crowd, he wondered what this so-called 'heaven' would be like. What kind of differences would it have from Mu? Would he be allowed to sleep calmly? Would there be no hallucinations, would there be-

He stopped walking suddenly, his eyes completely wide. Just as he'd turned his head right then, in a flurry of colour, he thought he'd seen... He could have sworn that there was something...but no... It couldn't be.

Slowly, very deliberately, he turned his head three quarters to the right. His eyes were completely unblinking. But even though he hardly moved his tense shoulders, he immediately detected the thing that had drawn his attention before. The pupils constricted in his eyes.

Suddenly he felt something wet and warm cover his palm. So utterly shocked was he, however, that he didn't even realize he'd squeezed the orange he was holding so hard that it had burst.

And even though he kept his jaw closed, he couldn't stop the muscle on the back of his cheek from pumping.

The throat had not changed a bit– the bobbing Adam's apple was just as pronounced as always under the white, fibrous skin...perhaps the shoulders were a bit leaner than Raito had remembered. But the long fingers and the web-like fabrication of the ebony, crow hair were exactly the same. Raito could only see a profile, but it was enough.

Raito stopped moving completely, not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. It literally felt as though a thunderbolt had just struck his spine – his nerves had grown so high strung that his wrists were jerking for no apparent reason. His heart was thundering harshly in his chest, causing him to breathe somewhat erratically. He was so startled by the extreme suddenness, the knowledge that this was not a trial, nor a hallucination – the impact of this discovery. The sudden realization of what was happening – the impact of what he was actually seeing.

And indeed, there he was. Ryuuzaki, in all his wiry glory, in the midst of all the screaming apparitions and hellish nightmares. And on his face was the same lost, slightly hesitant, slightly hopeful but largely disheartened expression as in everyone else's. And just like everyone else in this land forsaken by the gods, the haunted grimness of his cheekbones belied he'd seen true horror. Raito watched as L looked over the heads and faces of the crowd, looking like he knew who he was searching for.

The usually sparkling, pearl white shirt was now dirtied with the red mud that covered the entire surface of Mu, and the same stood for the denim jeans and torn tennis shoes. Apparently, he must have been close by when it had rained a few days ago, because the mud seemed splattered on his clothes – something only water would achieve. But Raito noticed that, oddly enough, L's white shirt still seemed to be glowing a bit, under the filth.

But the man, oddly enough, seemed simultaneously exactly the same and completely different from what Raito had remembered – he didn't remember L's face ever being animated in any way. But now, with slightly open lips, and eyes not quite as wide – but just as dark rimmed – as Raito remembered, Ryuuzaki's face looked...rather less... Other people would look at L and call him expressionless now. But for Raito, who'd known Ryuuzaki for years, the fact that Ryuuzaki was now actually worrying his bottom lip with his teeth as he looked around seemed... seemed... _inconceivable._ And then Raito realized how he himself may now look in Ryuuzaki's eyes, after everything that had happened. At times, Raito himself kept forgetting how much he'd changed, and that his face was now probably much different than L had remembered as well.

But just as he thought of the possibility that L may see him, Raito's heart increased its wild beat. This was the real thing! The real L...the last time Raito had seen this man, L had been in a casket, buried under a field of white lilies. The very memory of the image made Raito's skin crawl. But the realization that he was seeing this same person again – not a part of a hallucination, but the real thing – made his heart rate increase with anxiety.

What would L say...what would he say? He knew that Raito had killed him...

The auburn haired realized that L hadn't spotted him yet, as strange as that should be – the detective appeared preoccupied with looking around the crowd. He must definitely have someone he's searching for, Raito realized with a small sting, thinking that he should also be looking for Misa.

He wondered if he should, perhaps, try and talk to L, but immediately dismissed the notion. What was there to say, anyway? He had nothing to talk about with a person who he'd murdered and who knew that Raito had murdered him...No, Raito didn't want to talk at all. Actually, it was an accident he'd even seen L...a very unfortunate accident.

He didn't want to see L at all, Raito thought, and yet, at the same time, his eyes were still fixed between the other man's shoulder blades. L seemed to be standing a little straighter than before...didn't he? Raito wondered a bit absently, watching the blue light reflect from the black hair. He still felt a bit nauseous when looking at it for extended periods of time, however, so he turned to look away.

But ever since he'd left the Trial of Souls all that time ago, Raito had tried to put everything he remembered behind him, and Ryuuzaki was part of that past. Raito reminded himself all the reasons why Ryuuzaki was the definition of a bad idea. They'd never been friends, after all, and Ryuuzaki would probably not be very forgiving of the fact that Raito had sent him here.

It was a miracle that the ever-observant L hadn't already noticed him, actually. Or maybe he had noticed, but didn't want to talk...maybe L was just like Matsuda, Raito thought and, unexplainably, the haunted darkness of before returned in his eyes. Yes...perhaps L just...didn't want anything to do with him now. Not that Raito could blame-

At that moment, as Raito was staring at the back of the other's head, Ryuuzaki turned around a bit. Raito, realizing he might be seen, automatically turned away, keeping his face away from the other and hoping that the back of his head was nondescript enough for L not to notice.

He waited like that for a few moments. Then, when more than thirty seconds had passed and he was sure Ryuuzaki must have turned away by now, Raito, unable to help himself, turned around again, just surreptitiously enough to steal another glance, and observe the unbelievable spectacle of L's expressive – at least more so than before – face.

But just as he was preparing to find see the black hair and curvy neck, he found, instead...a blank space. Unconscious of his actions, Raito's entire body turned around in alert. His eyes moved back and forth, scanning above the heads of the crowd. But Ryuuzaki was no where to be seen.

So that was it, Raito thought quietly, and felt a rather bitter taste assail his mouth. Ryuuzaki hadn't noticed him. He was gone now – probably took a turn somewhere. Raito stood there for a few moments, looking at the people walking back and forth in the crowded street, still trying, despite himself, to see where Ryuuzaki had gone.

He remembered Tomoko's words, suddenly, and the way Tomoko had said that 'they might never see each other again'. And just like then, Raito thought, without realizing it, this may have been the absolute last time he'd ever seen Ryuuzaki in his entire life. In fact, he may never see Ryuuzaki, ever again...

Rather than sit there and think about it then, Raito thought, he should just accept it and keep walking. He didn't think it was plausible that L hadn't noticed him. Probably he'd just chosen to ignore him, much like Matsuda had...Raito decided to forget about L altogether. He wouldn't have even thought about L if he hadn't just seen him, he thought. In general, he never thought about L, Raito told himself.

He really should resume his search for Misa. Better just...forget about what he'd just seen. It's not like anything had happened anyway.

He realized that he'd been standing there, staring at the far distance for some time, which was rather embarrassing in itself. Suddenly, as he came back to focus, the wetness in his fingers became pronounced. He looked downwards and saw the pulverized orange in his hand. Sighing imperceptibly he turned around, still looking at it, thinking that he should find somewhere to throw it.

So he raised his eyes to focus back on the street, and find a patch of dirt.

But instead of the street, floating right in front of him, was Ryuuzaki's face.

He could have sworn his heart suddenly stopped, then started a double beat. His eyes widened, his fingers becoming lax around the squeezed fruit. But even so, he retained his dignity and managed not to take a step back. He started gritting his teeth again – his new favourite gesture, apparently – while trying to keep Ryuuzaki from noticing how nervous he was.

L. to his credit, didn't move at all. He didn't even blink – it was as though he was a statue. The real...Ryuuzaki. And now there was no question...Raito was certain that this was the real man, not a hallucination or a simulacrum. It was obvious by the way L's eyes were fixed on him. Only the real detective had the power to enforce his stare with that kind of... relentlessness.

Naturally, the first thing that overcame Raito was white shock, closely followed by rabid anger. Of course L would do this to him. Especially when Raito hadn't been prepared for a confrontation. And the sheer humiliation! Ryuuzaki had probably seen how Raito had been staring at the street...Well, Raito hadn't been exactly discreet, but... L had probably noticed Raito from before...it was so typical of the detective to play these mind ga-

Didn't Ryuuzaki seem a bit...taller...than usual...? Come to think of it, he wasn't hunching as low as usual...still hunching, but not quite as much...it seemed rather different. Raito chalked it up to his general annoyance that he was noticing these things now.

But slowly, as their eyes bored in the other's, all thoughts slowly seeped away in the silence. Raito could hear none of the usual noises from the crowd, and suddenly, the constant screaming seemed rather trivial. Even the movement of the crowd around them faded out, at least in Raito's eyes and ears. The only thing he could see, clearly defined and prominent in his vision, was L's face, which was staring at him with an expression of... of...Raito didn't quite understand what it was. Not hatred or anger. It wasn't even derision, because Ryuuzaki seemed...unusually sincere. His expression was...quizzical, somehow...

Honestly, Raito wanted to run away, as fast as his legs could carry him. But at the same time, strangely, running away was the last thing he wanted to do. His entire system was on fire, his nerves were becoming hypersensitive. And the worst part of all was that, even though Raito felt unbelievably high-strung and tense, Ryuuzaki seemed composed and self-controlled. On the other hand, however, Raito was sure that, on the outside, he too must seem very mellow.

Finally, bracing himself, realizing that the thick sound he was hearing was the pounding of his own blood against his eardrums, he opened his mouth. Belatedly realizing he had nothing to say, however, he floundered and sealed his lips again. He was internally cursing himself already, for making a fool of himself in front of the other. What was there to say, really? What was he trying to do?...Finally, after so much time, he turned his eyes away, looking at the side of the road, beyond Ryuuzaki's right elbow...but Raito couldn't really see anything.

What did L want, the auburn haired man thought angrily? To gloat at the fact that Kira had lost? To taunt Raito for being alone in Mu? What? Why couldn't he just... leave? At this point, Raito conveniently ignored the way he had felt when he'd thought that he may never see Ryuuzaki again. With a mental angry shrug, Raito decided that he should just walk away and pretend they'd never seen each other in the first place. Ryuuzaki had probably appeared only to taunt him, anyway. It would be better if they just ignored each other's existence, in the end, be it in the living world of the underworld. And obviously, since Ryuuzaki wasn't planning to-

_«Yagami-kun»_

It was much like a gong in the absolute silence. An explosion of bells, or waves in the sea – it was deafening. Raito felt as though he was falling down from another kind of building entirely. It was enough to make Raito's guts tighten and make him turn to Ryuuzaki's face again, to see that Ryuuzaki's eyes were not expressionless...at least not like Matsuda's...or as falsely cheerful as Tomoko's or...

Because, after all...with the way L's retched white throat was so pronounced in the vague crowd, and his eyes so wide, and his face so unfamiliar-yet-familiar...Raito became disoriented, he lost the proper reasons for his wrath, he suddenly remembered what the empty street had looked like when he'd thought Ryuuzaki had left...and then he thought that L had been looking for someone before, and that L was also alone, and since L was now talking to him he mustn't hate Raito as much as Raito had thought, or perhaps if Raito could-

_«Ryuuzaki»_ his mouth uttered before he could stop it.

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**a/n: OHHHH!!!!! WAHHHH!!! (okay, I know I sound stupid, but you have to share in on the excitement here! It's happening at last!!!)**

**You see, the basic problem with this chapter was this: I wanted to establish early on a situation where the reader expects Raito and Ryuuzaki to meet at any moment. And then, after establishing the status quo of the world of Mu, I tried to prolong the fatal meeting, hoping to intensify the reader's interest. I hope I did it, and I hope that all my reviewers mentally said «YEES!! FINALLY!!» the moment Ryuuzaki finally appeared. At least I know I did. This is what I was trying to do!**

**I hope you liked the last scene...I thought very carefully about how I wanted it to play out. And also, I think that at this point, Raito's hammering heartbeat upon seeing Ryuuzaki after all this time is totally excusable, don't you? I hope I didn't make him OOC, or something...From the next chapter onwards, the romance starts. And when I say romance, I don't mean soap-operatic romance. I'm not going to make them take walks around Mu and talk about their feelings. Prepare for more horror, more hallucinogenic adventures, more psycho panic! The only difference is that now, whilst trying to fight their way along the mysteries of the universe...they'll be together! MWAHAHAHA!!**

**I hope you liked my ideas about Mu, finding the person who's looking for you, etc. At the end of the fic, everything will make sense, and you'll understand why I invented the whole 'the person who's looking for you' thing! In the meantime, I hope y'all enjoyed it and that you excused my stupid grammatical and syntactical...and verbal and adverbal...and vocabulary...errors!**

**Until next time! Ta!**

**Ezan**


	13. Mushi o Mushishite

**W****ell, what can I say? There's nothing I can say or do that will express how honestly sorry I am that I've taken so long to update!**

**And the sad thing is, I didn't even do it because I was lazy. I just moved to England three weeks ago, I started Uni two weeks ago…and my life has been a living hell since then! Even now, I'm actually not supposed to be working on this story, but on my project for school, which is horribly overdue and which is completely buggered up!**

**Every day, I see peoples' reviews asking me to update and I think 'I'm so very, very sorry guys!! If only you knew I honestly **_**have no time**_**!!'. I thought of staying up at night to write the story, but that's not a good idea. For one thing, if I try and force it, it's not going to be as good as it could have been if I did it leisurely, at my own pace.**

**Honestly, I'm very sorry! This is why I was so hellbent on finishing it before September, because I knew this would happen. I've probably lost half my reviewers already by now…I don't even want to think about it!!!!!! **

**I sincerely hope that this chapter makes up for all the time I've been absent. Generally speaking, it's a relatively low-tone chapter. There aren't any extreme symbolisms yet, as it actually depicts the process of Raito and L getting accustomed to each other. I would have liked this chapter to have some more detailed horror, but if I had tried to sit and write more detail, then it would have taken me even LONGER to update, and I simply can't deal with my reviewers telling me: 'I hope you haven't abandoned this story!' any more.**

**I assure you I will never abandon it, until it's finished! However, I'm not going to rush to the end, just because I need to. Most importantly of all, this story must be what I initially wanted it to be!**

**Also, at times, in this chapter I was fighting with the idea of OOC. Ryuuzaki will probably seem OOC. This is exactly the reason we went through chapter 9, the 'L cameo', to show that L was also undergoing his own Trial of Souls. As such, when reading, always keep in mind that, just like Raito himself, L has undergone a Trial which has changed certain given standards of his mentality in Death Note.**

**There are probably many grammatical errors. I haven't even run a Microsoft Word check, since I'm so eager to update this chapter. There will possibly be many repetitions of the same word or phrase. It may become annoying, but please cope with it. I'll edit it ASAP.**

**Upon finishing, please remember to review and tell me what you think of it! Remember that the reason I'm so dedicated to it is your sincere excitement about it. The more you like it, the more I write of it!!**

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**Ignore the Insects**

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Their voices echoed like gongs in the distance. The motions of the crowd had grown still; trapped in a frozen loop to the extent that more than motion had become suspended. Even time had been magnified.

And then, as though a thunderbolt sliced through the unstirred, thick air, the world shot to animation once more.

Facts started to accumulate in Raito's brain with extreme speed, and the things that had gained godlike proportions only a few seconds ago now seemed 'completely natural'. Hence, Ryuuzaki's face, with its distractingly balanced proportions and protruding cheekbones, was no longer a dark shape floating in an old nightmare. It was tangible, and, in this confusing world, where geometry blended with curvature and dreams became reality, it was surrealistically sharp. Raito's irises had become filled with the image of that apparition, just as Ryuuzaki's had filled with Raito's own visage.

In a rush of power, which almost knocked the wind out of Raito's lungs, thoughts began to crowd him. The two conflicting poles that had taken permanent residence in his mind were coalescing and reaching their highest peak yet: on the one hand stood his identity as Kira, and his doubt in trying to approach others, and on the other his blind, utterly illogical belief that, despite all odds, since this man, Ryuuzaki, had approached Raito on his own accord, he might actually…

"…Ehm…" he could have sworn he'd never made a sound as embarrassing as this in his entire life. And the fact that Ryuuzaki wasn't responding at all was not helping. Raito belatedly realized that he could not continue his sentence, so he cleverly disguised his blunder by transforming the invalid statement into a cough, and pretending he was clearing his throat. There was no question as to whether L had noticed, but would he be gracious enough to bypass the matter? Or perhaps, would he completely ignore Raito? But if he wanted to ignore the other, then why would he have confronted the chestnut haired man in the first place?

And why was Ryuuzaki…_looking _at him like that?

Raito felt suffocated as he stared straight at Ryuuzaki's distressingly expressive face. He started a sentence in his mind but felt unable to finish it. This was the first time he was meeting someone who'd been close to him during his lifetime, he reasoned with himself, so it was perfectly natural for him to be feeling so awkward now.

Yet the excuse sounded cheap, even in his mind.

After a few more seconds of unexplained staring, Raito began to consider abandoning this effort altogether. L didn't seem keen on starting a conversation and Raito was feeling uncomfortable enough to be convinced that, somewhere along the Trial of Souls, he had indeed lost conscious touch with his more useful social skills.

One may have considered this uncomfortable interaction puzzling, compared to their former staring contest of just a few minutes ago…but it remained a fact that the more time passed, the more Raito got a chance to arrange his thoughts. And the more he arranged them, the more he came to realize various things about his current state, and Ryuuzaki's current state. Treating memories more as feelings than facts, he relived the exact sentiments associated with Ryuuzaki's person: the constant anxiety of being hunted, the impending fear of ridicule. The glee of victory, when L had finally been wiped out, which had been unexpectedly coupled with an emotion of unfulfillment. None of these were pleasant recollections. And the more Raito considered them, the more skittish he now was about reestablishing touch with L.

He could envision Ryuuzaki's fully justified possible unwillingness to help him – he could almost see Ryuuzaki's ironic little smile in his mind. Conveniently ignoring the fact that L currently seemed nonchalant, Raito started hallucinating, thinking that L was secretly mocking him. Had he been looking at the other more closely at the present moment, Raito would have seen that L's expression was just as uncomfortable, if perhaps even more so, than his own. But still, everything seemed to be hanging in the balance between them. Even their unexpectedly common awareness of their abnormal situation, which was perhaps the most disconcerting and discomforting thing of all.

Just as the thoughts were running rampant in his mind in an effort to mend what was rapidly turning into quite the mental self-confidence disaster, someone's voice sounded, and it took a moment for Raito to associate the eerily familiar drawl with the mouth opening and closing in front of him.

"I take it Yagami-kun is…searching for someone as well, then." the husky voice rung suddenly, jerking Raito out of his increasingly abysmal thoughts. He raised his eyes to look at the speaker, letting them briefly connect to the other man's moving mouth before pulling them away again. This time, he let his stare focus somewhere to the side, steadfastly ignoring Ryuuzaki's face.

Raito was momentarily taken aback. He'd expected fury, or at least some kind of frigid cynicism, such as: 'Fancy seeing you here, Yagami-kun' or 'Surprised to see me, Yagami-kun?'. He'd expected cleverly disguised sarcasm, or perhaps some form of humorous mockery about the common fate of a righteous murderer and his secular victims...but L, in typical fashion, had managed to deliver everything in one single blow, since he had struck at Raito's most painful subject.

However, by the way he spoke, and by the slightly subdued inflection of his voice, Raito thought that the other sounded more…resigned than anything else. His tone was neutral: neither antagonistic, nor brimming with camaraderie. It was just a nonchalant, rather resigned, tone. This routine conversation sounded exactly as though it had been swiped from Raito's memories. The echoing recollection of it from his worst nightmares was so sharp that it sent a stab of pain straight into his chest, as though reminding him of a life that had left forever and could never return.

Raito didn't really know what to assume. Was L playing a game with him…? Was there any hidden meaning in this phrase? Because no matter how much he analyzed it, Raito couldn't come up with any ideas. It just seemed as though, abnormally enough…Ryuuzaki was just making small talk.

As if he was intentionally ignoring the fact that Raito was his murderer, and that the last time they'd seen each other, he'd been dying in Raito's arms.

"Yes…" Raito finally chose to answer, not knowing or thinking it prudent to make any hints or inquiries about…more complex matters. He supposed it was strange enough that L was voluntarily talking to him…let alone talking about their common history. Best if Raito tried to abide to triviality for the time being, albeit there could be no real definition of 'careless triviality' in the streets of Mu.

"I see." L answered, not as cryptically as he once would have. Raito, who would not let a pin drop unnoticed, observed every single detail about the other man, including his unusual lack of suspicion, or restraint. In all honestly, L behaved as if…there was no subtext at all.

Raito caught himself giving Ryuuzaki's exposed collarbone a prolonged stare and immediately moved his eyes away, all the time evaluating the fact that L seemed a bit too bony. Or perhaps, in the long years Raito hadn't seen the real Ryuuzaki, he had forgotten what the real man had looked like, and focused instead on the hallucinations of his Trial. It was impossible for people to grow thinner, fatter or older in Mu, so this image of Ryuuzaki must correspond exactly to what the detective had looked like when he was killed. Raito probably hadn't noticed, during those few panicky months before L's impending death, that the detective had obviously lost weight and grown grim.

L had probably known he'd die soon, and that there was no way to escape it.

Raito remembered the feeling well.

People bustled by, the sky was a shade of icy grey, and Raito, to his horror, found himself trying to keep the conversation alive. Anything to prevent the uncomfortable silence from recurring. He did not want to be stuck in the middle of the dark street with L, feeling uncomfortable. If it came to that, he'd rather just walk away. He didn't really need this kind of pressure…

But as he remembered L's words from a few moments ago, he realized that the black haired man had asked whether Raito was looking for someone 'as well', which would imply, as Raito had guessed, that L himself was now looking for someone.

The fact that Raito's personal quest was not at all exceptional or original had not become so clear until now. At times like this, it became painfully obvious that everyone was in Mu for the same reason, be it friend or foe. And Ryuuzaki, who Raito would have wagered could never have a person who'd want to find him, was now searching for someone of his very own. This fact took precedence above all others, and Raito's curiosity – mixed with a jealousy of the most restless, aggravating nature – could not wait to be quenched. Who was this person? Perhaps someone from L's British past? Someone that Raito didn't know…? Unexpectedly, upon recalling that unusual face L had been making when Raito first spotted him in Mu, the chestnut haired man was attacked by a somewhat confusing bout of annoyance. Who had the power to make L – the man with the unchanging face – look so genuinely hopeful? In all the years Raito had known L, in all the months he'd flaunted his extreme achievements in front of Ryuuzaki's face, he'd hardly ever received more than grudgingly disguised interest.

"And you? Searching for someone, that is…?" he asked quietly, trying to probe the other carefully, despite being almost completely sure L would catch on immediately and never provide a straight answer. He cleverly masked his curiosity by looking at Ryuuzaki's left cheek as he spoke, only turning to look into L's eyes for a few seconds at a time.

The mute question that was left hanging between them was obvious, requesting the identity of the mystery person. But Raito had conveniently forgotten that, even though he was expecting to be offered a full-fledged explanation of L's plans, he had not offered something of the sort himself.

Strangely, however, despite the obvious tension, L did not seem troubled or defensive when faced with Raito's indiscreet attempts to interrogate him, nor did he inquire after the person Raito was searching for. This disinterest annoyed Raito vaguely, but he chalked his irritation to his general dislike of Ryuuzaki rather than anything in particular.

"Has Yagami-kun, by any chance…" L started with a non-sequitur, and this time kept his gaze fixed on Raito's, momentarily looking extremely like the arrogant person Raito had always envisioned in his memories – and in his Trial. As L's statement hung unfinished between them, Raito could almost feel his tendons snap, unexplainably anxious to discover who Ryuuzaki's fated person might be. Someone that Raito had never met, or-

"…encountered….Wa,,,Watari…anywhere?" Ryuuzaki finished slowly, his voice growing curiously quieter and more reluctant with every passing second, and Raito's eyes were drawn rather abruptly to the hollows of the other's cheeks.

"Pardon?" Raito asked, rather stupidly, and immediately berated himself for saying it after having said it.

L seemed strained "'Watari'. I said 'Watari'…" By the time Ryuuzaki had repeated the old man's name a third time, he'd turned his eyes away from the other's, looking anywhere but at Raito. If the tall auburn-haired man didn't know better, he'd say Ryuuzaki was acting…embarrassed. Perhaps annoyed? Probably both, because he'd been forced to ask Raito – his own murderer – for help…

But Raito wasn't too preoccupied with this, stumped as he still was over the issue of L looking for Wammy – that old man – in Mu. The man stayed silent for a few moments, looking at L's face rather blankly, as though unable to digest what he'd just heard. Then, after a few moments, his mind ignited again and realized that the small line between L's eyebrows was an indication that he was expecting an answer.

"No…No, sorry…No." Raito needlessly – and rather uncomfortably - reiterated, shaking his head slightly from side to side, aware that he was refusing a bit too nonchalantly. But he hadn't yet uttered the last denial in his sentence when Ryuuzaki's words overlapped with his.

"I trust you remember what he looks like." The detective said, and, finally, his eyes sought to find Raito's, and locked on them.

"Raito-kun doesn't forget faces."

Silence.

This time, they were staring right at each other's eyes, both their expressions completely neutral, as though trying to figure out what the other was thinking. It was obvious that L had just dropped a rather uncouth hint about Kira. There was a palpable tension in the air, as though the two rivals were saying much more through their prolonged silences and sharp eyes than through their words. The true nature of this evasive chat was quickly becoming obvious, and it was now clear that there where many untold things resting under the surface, threatening to break through.

As he stared into L's onyx eyes, Raito could have sworn he saw some kind of glint in them. Like the strike of lightning, or a string of venom as it shoots from a snake's mouth: unexpected, instantaneous and lethal. As always.

Raito chose to ignore the last statement, knowing that if he said anything or if he took the bait now, this situation would most likely end with an explosive and inconclusive debate, which would in turn result in never seeing or hearing from L again. And in the isolation of Mu, this was not an option. So Raito just gritted his teeth silently, and when he was confident enough of his own calmness, he spoke again.

"Yes, yes. Of course I remember…I haven't seen him…" then, as an afterthought, he repeated for good measure "Sorry." He couldn't believe that this conversation was so subdued, and so very anticlimactic, despite the fact that there was such underlying stress carried in every charged word. Raito couldn't understand himself, much less Ryuuzaki. Why were the both of them willing to converse so minimalistically with a person they mutually despised? Were they both really so desperate for company? Raito was aware that he was consciously chosing not to start being antagonistic, but to remain this way.

Ryuuzaki's new attitude intrigued him, as did the fact that, when hearing Raito's last words, L's face gained a well-masked crestfallen expression. In order to distract himself from Ryuuzaki's resigned nodding face, and the claw-like fingers he could see fisting in Ryuuzaki's pockets, Raito turned downwards, staring at the pavement.

This felt so uncomfortable. So uncomfortable. He could see that Ryuuzaki was trying not to crack, but it wasn't working. Whatever had happened in L's Trial had been enough to change him, at least on this level. What could it be…? What in the world would be powerful enough to make Ryuuzaki –_ Ryuuzaki_, for God's sake – uncaring of showing his inner thoughts? On the outside Raito seemed completely idle, but on the inside, is mind was running miles per second.

It made sense that Ryuuzaki would be looking for the old man, Raito thought and advised himself not to be so surprised. After all, who else was there for L to be looking for, when Whammy was the closest thing he had to a comrade? What had Raito been expecting, he asked himself? Perhaps someone from L's past that Raito hadn't met…perhaps Near or Mello…? The very thought of L having some kind of secret or knowing something that Raito ignored was infuriating enough. But now that he thought about it, it really did make perfect sense that L would be looking for Whammy – and vice versa, probably – since they'd been so involved with each other during their lives.

And yet…what was L thinking? Did he really expect to spend the rest of his existence in the company of that old man…? What would they have to talk about? The evolution of turnips through the ages…?

Then again…even in his dying hours, Raito remembered, and felt not a small amount of unjustified annoyance, L had been worrying about the old man…Calling his name and such…Raito didn't have anyone like that…did he? Not even Misa would…

Well no; that was a lie. Misa probably would do this for Raito, and much more. And this was why finding her was his only hope, he reminded himself, as finding the old man was probably L's only hope.

After all, who else would care enough for a spastic, insomniac, antisocial piece of vegetation with no personal redeeming qualities whatsoever, except for old Whammy? Raito thought all this, and felt a bit better about his own situation. This was why, compared to others, he was much better off-

"And Yagami-kun…? Who have you been searching for?"

Raito raised his eyes quickly from where he'd been staring off, obviously caught unawares and not realizing the expression of surprise he was displaying. Had anyone else asked him that? He didn't remember anyone else asking that…It seemed personal, somehow…Besides, he didn't want to admit to L that he, the great and respectable rival, had fallen low enough to depend on someone he'd scorned so much during life…

He met Ryuuzaki's unwavering, slightly questioning gaze, and realized it would be considered fair to answer L's direct questions now, as compensation for gaining information before. However, even though Raito was thinking of viewing this as one of their old debates, where things were at stake and lives were hanging on words, he noticed that Ryuuzaki's face was not really displaying even half the competitive penetration that it had been famous for in Japan. Besides, L's questions were so very direct and open that this was an enigma in itself…L was never known for being direct about his business. Stealth, secrecy, subtext, mystery, vigilance and cowardice were common words in the detective's dictionary – frankness was not. This was a universal truth. And as Raito started talking, coming face to face with that openly direct, uncaring expression, he truly realized, perhaps for the first time since his death, that he was not the only one who had changed.

Other people were different as well.

"Me, I'm looking for…" it felt strange thinking of himself as searching for her, but Ryuuzaki's face was waiting for him to finish his statement. In order to make himself feel better, Raito reminded himself with intentional villainy that L had fallen low enough to be searching for a grandpa, so he was the worst off from the two.

"Misa". He said it quickly, as though it were a swearword – something to be ashamed of. He snapped his jaws closed after uttering it, as if thinking of a way to falsify or retract his statement. But faced with L's rather steady gaze, he realized how silly he was being, blinked rapidly and nodded firmly, as though to verify his claim.

Ryuuzaki's reaction didn't make things better.

"Yes…I see how that could happen…" the former detective nodded, his patronizing, rather dismissive tone a ghost of memories past. It didn't fail to strike straight at the heart of Raito's sensitive zone. And the brunette, who had been agitated ever since the beginning of this unlikely conversation and was searching for ways to relieve the pressure, latched onto L's harmlessly delivered comment with spite, realizing that he hated the tension weighing down every word that came out of L's mouth.

"Are you implying something?" Raito started, and his tone had switched to significantly less compliant than before. The pressure was begging to be defused by now, and the fact that L was not mentioning what they were both thinking was driving Raito crazy. He looked straight at L's face, not realizing that he was frowning in a rather petulant fashion. L's complete lack of disturbance was perhaps the most infuriating of it all. Faced with Raito's irritation, L was just as expressionless as Raito remembered. The only difference with before, Raito realized, was that this time he wasn't being obscure or nonchalant on purpose in order to augment Raito's anger. This time he just honestly seemed… not to care whether Raito would understand his intentions or not.

"Not anything in particular…Just that Amane-san was always very dependent on Raito-kun, so I consider it plausible she'd be looking for him now." Ryuuzaki explained, nodding slowly, as though his wisdom was indisputable, a behaviour which made Raito all the more agitated. Raito noticed that, even though obliging Raito and specifying his point, L still had not brought to the open the real argument. He had chosen to speak with sugarcoated, fabricated politeness, and avoid the real issue: that Misa, being Kira's accomplice, would be the only person who would care enough for Raito in order to search for him. But L continued, the frankness in his voice so startling that it clashed even with Raito's inner thoughts, reaching straight into his greatest fear.

"That is, unless the status-quo of your relationship remained unchanged after my…death."

Raito inhaled sharply. In all the months he'd spent in Mu, he'd never heard anyone – except of course himself – actually _say it._ Say that they were dead. Unconsciously, his inner respect for Ryuuzaki's stature rose up a notch. Raito's impression of the detective had been correct then, and the other really was as mentally mature as Raito would have expected, even in these extenuating circumstances.

However, there was something in the way L had spoken that Raito could not forgive. That annoying pseudo-logic infested way in which L had said it, as though he were completely detached from the whole experience – as though Raito hadn't killed him as well...as though Kira had never existed. The detective, as before, had laced in his words a quiet invitation for Raito to tell him what had happened after his death. But Raito was frustrated by the fact that L considered him incapable of finding another consort except Misa, so he resolved to retain the information from the other, out of childish spite.

Even though it was now obvious to L that Raito – or Kira – had eventually been killed…Raito would make sure L would never find out about the grand finale of the Death Note. Perhaps Raito saw this retention of information as a form of revenge for L's eternal refusal to offer his real name.

And even though he knew that he shouldn't be thinking about this yet _again_, he couldn't really help it. He could already feel the veins pumping in his temples, alive for the first time in his afterlife: Lawrence? Lance? Luke? Ludwig?...Largo Winch? Lara Croft?! What was it?

But, after all, in the end, he decided to pity Ryuuzaki and not hold it against him. It must feel horrible for poor, disoriented L, Raito thought with unkind superiority, to be left in the dark concerning the continuation of the Kira case – the case he had worked so hard on. Not to mention that Ryuuzaki himself was in a situation as equally sad – perhaps even sadder – as Raito's, not having anyone to search for him except an old, balding wreckage of a man. It seemed that L was finally paying for his prolonged scorn of human relations.

"Yes indeed." Raito decided to bypass Ryuuzaki's previous statement by just noncommittally agreeing to it. He hoped it would soon be as though Misa's name had never been mentioned. He supposed that if L had seen her, he would tell Raito, so no need to voice the extent of his concern.

Ryuuzaki had nothing to add to the conversation, so Raito stayed silent.

However, when time passed and they still weren't speaking, Raito started to feel uncomfortable all over again. The discomfort had never truly left, just become slightly ameliorated. But now that he was facing Ryuuzaki and had nothing to do except rest his eyes on the person directly in front of him, he felt a keen sense of exhaustion and futility.

Ryuuzaki's jeans were of a faded green-navy colour, and the fabric on the knees was scraped and covered with red dirt, Raito noticed, and was in turn woe to ponder what kind of image he must present to L. And then, almost unconsciously, he raised his head again, as though to shake his bangs away from his eyes. Unintentionally, as he was staring around with fake nonchalance, he met the twin inky stains that adorned L's face.

Feeling as though he'd been caught doing something inappropriate, Raito was so quick to avert his eyes that he didn't realize that, actually, L had simultaneously done the very same thing. The tension augmented tenfold, to the extent that Raito felt like he wanted to grab Ryuuzaki's throat and wring it back and forth.

Minutes passed, and, for some reason, it felt like they were the critical ones before Ryuuzaki's death. The chestnut haired man could hear the silence in his brain – contrasted vividly by the uncomfortable squeeze in his chest. With every word they seemed to exchange now, Raito simultaneously felt closer and closer, then further and further to that horrid – and exhilarating – time, when L's translucent eyelids had permanently shut, and the weight in Raito's arms had frosted over.

What do you say to someone who knows you've killed them? This is useless, Raito thought, not for the first time, and felt his entire body be dipped in the pits of despair. Useless…he should just end this stupid conversation and resume his quest…Besides, there was no way Ryuuzaki's presence would be of any use to Raito in his effort to find Misa. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made, and the more Raito wanted to move away.

This…this 'thing' between them that they were trying to do…it wasn't working. It would never work. And it wasn't because of justice, or murder, or politics. It was because they were Raito and L, and the underworld – just as the living world – was simply not big enough for both of them.

But at the same time, the loneliness out there, within that huge crowd of people...

And indeed, the desperation was so intense, that, once Raito recalled it, a persistent tightness coiled around his lungs. He turned to look at the people around them, walking, walking and going nowhere…men, women and children alike, strutting confidently toward nothingness, trapped in a futile search.

They were all alone in the world. It wasn't like going to study in a foreign country, knowing friends and family are left behind waiting for you. It didn't have the comforting knowledge that the nightmare would end. This was endless, and true. They were all alone.

Living people have no idea how lucky they are, being able to talk to anyone they wish. They must be stupid not to utilize this extraordinary ability every living second of every breathing hour, Raito thought, conveniently forgetting the fact that he once used to do the exact same thing.

_Alone. _Forever in a huge crowd of people, but still alone. Ryuuzaki must know the feeling first hand, Raito thought, as his eyes reluctantly returned to stare at Ryuuzaki's half-shredded tennis trainers. He'd lived in Tokyo after all, hadn't he? Even though he'd rarely exited the building, he must have known what it felt like walking in the streets, crushed between strangers, sandwiched between people one would never meet again in one's entire life: all those people.

Many of them…Too many of them. So many that they felt they needed to retreat to their own minds in order to find some free space.

People's lives are supposed to be interconnected. But they're not connected at all, Raito thought bitterly. Each person is just a speck, a glimmering presence in another's life. Each person one sees walking down the opposite side of the street is just a fleeting second of an hour in one's life. After that, it's all dust, and those two people shall never meet again. In every second of every minute of every hour, a person in your life – a potential soul mate – dies, and you never even get the chance to meet them.

And though he'd wished for this isolation during his lifetime, the prospect now seemed less and less welcoming. What's worse, he knew that human presence was infectious, like an addictive drug: the more time spent conversing with someone, even if that someone was Ryuuzaki, the harder it would be for Raito to adjust back to his lonely trek later. The harder it would be to pretend he didn't feel like Ryuuku was following him constantly. It would become torturous to walk alone, pretending that somewhere, someone in this huge band of people was looking for him too, even though he knew – through the logical part of his mind – that he'd probably never find that person.

A gust of wind blew by, and Raito felt the strings of his hair whip around his face. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that, in L's case, not only the hair but the clothes also seemed to float around his body. The white shirt seemed ethereal, almost translucent, against the dull blue-grey background. Then the gale was gone, and all was normal once more.

Raito had to do something or else this uncomfortable, forced silence, which was loaded with cryptic meanings, could go on forever.

Finally, as he gathered his valiance and opened his mouth in a renewed attempt to speak, aware that he must resemble a fish by now, he noticed that Ryuuzaki's eyes briefly slipped downwards to observe something, then quickly returned to Raito's face with renewed interest. Raito, feeling utterly defeated, proceeded to hide his hand – the one covered with the pulverized orange, which Ryuuzaki had just been staring at so amusedly – behind his back.

"…Can it be hidden once it's already been revealed…?" Ryuuzaki's eyes slipped imperceptibly toward Raito's hand, which was concealed behind the tall brunette's back…

This wasn't about the orange, was it?

But there was no biting edge in Ryuuzaki's tone – if anything, it sounded rather philosophical, as though L had spent hours and hours pondering over this matter. Not to mention that his expression still retained a tint of weariness. As though, in all honesty, he had resigned himself to this kind of reality, where people kept trying to hide behind their little finger.

But Raito didn't treat the situation quite so whimsically. He wore an expression of forced restraint, realizing that he was now making himself look as though he felt guilty for his choices, when he didn't really feel guilty about anything. But perhaps the worst of all was the humiliation of the lack of spite in Ryuuzaki's voice.

Gritting his teeth imperceptibly, he turned around to face the other again, and his blood pressure started rising steadily. So this was it. They had reached the stage where Ryuuzaki would try to flaunt his superiority in Raito's face. And it was a universal truth that, once Ryuuzaki would set his mind on wanting something, not even wild tempests – much less Raito – could stop the other from trying to take it. And so Raito knew, long before he opened his mouth to utter the next words; that he would never manage to escape this conversation until he heard what L had to say. Subconsciously, this didn't bore him as much as he'd thought it would. He attributed his lack of fury to his prolonged period of isolation. He supposed he'd… 'missed' this kind of conversation. The kind which had some subtext…even if the subtext was disadvantageous for him.

"I'll try hiding it nonetheless, out of politeness." Raito said rigidly, assuming a stoic image and bending his head forward slightly, as though acquiescing himself to a dialogue weighted down by double meanings. Perhaps he was talking about the fact that he was Kira. Perhaps he was referring to the demented smile he'd granted L before the detective had left his last breath. In any case, even though he tried to sound as neutral or as uninterested as the other, his larynx curiously did not obey him. In the end, his tone had a healthy dose of venom.

This was because, even though he did not yet know it, Ryuuzaki's question had struck some chords inside him; and the part of him – the proud part – which was always ready to deny his own mistakes was ignited: honestly…can something be hidden once it's already been brought to the light? Be it a squished orange – proof of Raito's sudden social skittishness – or the fact that he was Kira…can an entire life, an entire identity, be stashed away in some dark corner, just so that Raito could have more chances to find a soul mate? No, it can't. It wouldn't be right. And Raito despised the fact that Ryuuzaki was implying that Raito was trying to hide himself.

"And of course, to satisfy your own pride, Kira-kun." L stated with astonishing directness, and Raito, whose nerve endings had already been strung tightly, now became extremely taut, realizing Ryuuzaki was antagonizing him, however discreetly. But as he looked at the black haired man, he started to notice the utterly neutral colouring of his expression – much more neutral than it was before. As L finished his sentence, the occult appellation established itself between them, and Raito was momentarily shocked into speechlessness.

No one…no one had called him 'Kira' so casually before…as though this were his given name…strangely enough, this form of address enraged him more than anything. It was like…'Kira' was taking away his personality. As though he didn't exist as 'Raito' any more in L's mind, only as Kira.

"It's more a question of respect than it is of pride, L." Raito said, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly as he intentionally stressed Ryuuzaki's fake name. Then he remembered the play 'Measure for Measure', which he and L had been discussing so intently during the Trial of Souls "As long as people didn't see anyone doing it, they would never question it."

He said it, even though he suspected L knew very well that life had disillusioned them both on that aspect. But it wasn't a question of words anymore – Raito was surely much more mature than he was currently displaying, and the arguments they were using sounded more like childish quibbles than serious accusations. No; the reason they were debating was not the words themselves, but the atmosphere.

_The __need_.

A few moments of brief silence ensued, which felt remarkably like the calm before the storm. Then, L opened his mouth again.

"Is that what you told yourself to feel better about thinking like a child?"

'_How dare he?!'_

Even though he didn't want to admit it to himself, L's words were the exact kind of stimulation Raito had been expecting, in order to launch guiltlessly into full rage.

He _needed_ this indignant anger. It was familiar, and comforting, and he knew how to deal with it. He needed it in order to shield himself from the discomfort, and from L's eyes.

"You of all people should know, L. Murder and the death penalty are two completely different things." Raito sad, barely containing his voice.

"There's just one problem with that statement, Kira-kun. You're not a certified judge. In order to scorn a system openly you must first prove yourself worthy in its terms. Did you do such a thing? " Strangely enough, Ryuuzaki himself, contrary to his usual standard, was talking in fast, venomous snaps. It was just enough to give Raito the ammunition he wanted to launch into a full-blast accusation.

"Stop calling me Kira!"

"Why? Isn't this who you wanted to be?"

Raito raised his arm, and the former detective took a reflexive step backwards in order to defend himself. However, just as Raito's hand was spiraling forward, balled as a fist, a particularly loud, horrible shriek sounded from somewhere on the left of the street.

The chestnut haired man froze on his tracks, never managing to deliver that punch. Both Ryuuzaki and Raito, temporarily distracted from their prevarication, turned to the direction of the screams. There was an unusual amount of people gathered there – even for the standards of Mu – looking at something. By the sound of it, it was probably a hallucination of some sort. The heads of the people in the front were obstructing the view, so Raito couldn't be sure what kind of hallucination it was.

Raito turned to look at L for a moment, noticing that the detective was looking at the scene with intense concentration. Even though Raito could only see his profile, he noticed that Ryuuzaki's brows were furrowed, and he stubbornly didn't turn to look at Raito again.

At first, Raito had been planning to ignore and bypass this hallucination as a simple sign of everyday life in Mu. However, L's obvious interest in it put a halter to his plans.

Taking a few small paces forwards and moving his head around, Ryuuzaki seemed to act as though he'd completely forgotten about Raito's presence – a thought which, in itself, was rather irritating. Raito was initially startled when he heard some kind of shuffling sound echo from his side. Overcome by an irrational fear that the Grim Reaper was hovering over him again, Raito whirled around immediately, only to come face-to-face with a random passerby, who'd simply been moving near him.

Unbelievable, Raito thought in a completely self-demeaning way. He'd become so sensitive to close human presence that he was bordering on paranoia…But Raito was pleased that his little pause, however humiliating, had drawn L's attention, and now Ryuuzaki was staring at him again, with a gaze obviously indicating incomprehension. Realizing that it would take a while to explain what had happened, Raito simply turned around again, continuing to walk forward, this time feeling a small jolt of comfort when hearing the echo of L's footsteps fall after his own. Finally, Raito thought. He was the one being followed.

Eventually, when they were sandwiched amongst the crowd, they could not walk any further and were forced to crane their necks in order to see what was going on. Raito wasn't so very interested in these apparitions right now, since the need to talk – and spar – with L was more precipitant. But Ryuuzaki himself obviously didn't view it that way, drawn as he was to the hallucination like a moth to the flame. Raito resigned himself to obliging L and investigating this matter, if that meant that they could continue their 'chat' later.

Besides, by now, Raito had also become intrigued about what may have drawn all these peoples' attention, and what the hallucination was all about – and perhaps more importantly, whether he could resolve it.

Finally, as he stood there, trying to detect even a small view of the happenings from between the bodies of various people, Raito caught sight of a deep scarlet colour, splashing against the ground. Reflexively, he stepped backwards.

So this was why everyone was gathered here.

It was a fact that the most grotesque hallucinations tended to attract the most people.

"It's another apparition." Ryuuzaki's voice echoed from the left, and Raito was momentarily distracted, having become too absorbed in what he was seeing.

"Yeah…" he started, letting his statement drop. Then he fell back to the heels of his feet, turning to Ryuuzaki, eager to speak again. But just as he was expecting to see L standing there, he blinked in surprise. L had left…?

Raito turned, looking around rapidly, not realizing how anxious he was until he actually felt the reassurance – and slight annoyance at being cast aside – of seeing L's familiar hunched figure squeezing between people in the crowd. Not wasting time, and knowing perfectly well that it was easy to lose sight of someone after having found them in this place, Raito followed the other, burying himself in the throng of people and walking toward the front, nearest to the apparition.

Once Ryuuzaki had reached the front line of the crowd, Raito came to join him a few seconds later, feeling strangely comforted by the rather familiar shimmer of L's shirt. Raito supposed it was extremely strange that, even though he hadn't been accompanied by the real Ryuuzaki in his Trial, it still felt as though…he and L had been together recently. However, Raito would rather die than reveal to Ryuuzaki the reasons why he felt this aura of familiarity. If Ryuuzaki ever found out about what Raito had…done in his trial…

Privately, he was glad for the distraction that the hallucination offered, grotesque though it may be, since he'd frankly been running out of 'safe' subjects to discuss with Ryuuzaki before. If it hadn't been for the hallucination, a full-fledged brawl of the most uncivilized kind would have occurred. And yet, even though Raito was glad it hadn't happened, the need still burned in him like an undying furnace, which, once lit, could not be extinguished. Now that he'd gotten so close to relieving this pressure, he couldn't wait for it to be defused.

However, the moment Raito came to the front of the crowd and was faced with the hallucination which had attracted all these people, he suddenly thought that he'd rather be stuck in the middle of the street, being uncomfortable around Ryuuzaki.

"_Get me the scalpel…no! The scalpel!"_ the translucent, ghost image of a man roared. He was bent over a surgical table, upon which lay a thing that vaguely resembled a woman. She was literally split open, like a cantaloupe, and her face was scarred to the point that her idiosyncratic characteristics had become completely unrecognizable.

The front of the surgeon's light green robes were covered in blood – like those of a regular butcher. There were various red lights going on and off, illuminating the doctor's sallow face, as he kept shouting at someone in the far distance, who could not be seen in the hallucination.

Momentarily flabbergasted by the gruesomeness of the scene, Raito temporarily forgot that L was standing right at his side. When he finally turned around to see what L was doing, he was surprised to see that the crow-haired man's face was not completely expressionless as he observed the proceedings. There was a slight grimace of…of something…etched in Ryuuzaki's face, but Raito could not identify the emotion.

"_Air! We need air!"_ a voice from outside the frame of the hallucination shouted harshly and Raito immediately turned back to watch the continuation. It felt like watching a car-crash, or perhaps the story of his own life: the scene was so horrible that it was mesmerizing. The woman – or, more correctly, the chunk of meat – lying on the surgical table was emitting groans of pain now and then. It was blood-curdling.

"_I can't find them!!"_ the voice from outside the frame shouted again. The doctor pulled his hands out of the woman's open belly and turned around. Seeing his blood covered hands, Raito almost flinched in dismay. He noticed from the corner of his eye, that L blinked quickly a couple of times. It was probably L's equivalent of a wince.

"_Damn them…can't even do a single thing properly…have to do everything myself…"_ the chief surgeon started muttering, as he removed his blood-covered plastic gloves quickly, and then lay them on the surgical table, by the woman's shivering body.

Raito expected the doctor to shout again, but was surprised to see that the surgeon, after leaving his gloves aside, simply proceeded to walk away from his patient. Initially, Raito had thought it strange that there was only one doctor occupied with a case as serious as this one, but then he decided that this hallucination must not be the product of memory, but a nightmare. A dream, or…

As the doctor walked away from his charge, his translucent form progressively got narrower and narrower, until finally he vaporized, turning into wisps of thin air.

Raito quickly stole a glance at Ryuuzaki's direction, surprised to find that the former detective was already staring at him with a rather strange look in his eye, as though expecting Raito to say something in particular. Temporarily ignoring this, Raito turned to observe the rest of the crowd, noticing that they were all looking at the hallucination with bated breath, obviously waiting to see what would happen when the surgeon would return.

If Raito had been alone, he would have left by now. He enjoyed trying to resolve hallucinations, but only those which reflected memories, or real events. He didn't want to become associated with the inner musings of any other person. His own nightmares were enough, thank you very much.

But, despite unwilling to admit it to himself, he was here with…Ryuuzaki. And L still seemed intent on standing here to observe. And Raito would be damned if he acted like a wuss in front of his former rival. Admitting that he'd been looking for Misa was humiliation enough, so he wouldn't stand for demeaning himself further in L's eyes. So Raito, deciding to be patient, stood there as well. On the one hand he was annoyed at himself for following L's lead so intrinsically, but on the other hand it was such a rare opportunity to find someone who would willingly talk to him – especially when that person knew his identity as Kira – that he didn't want to abandon the effort just yet.

So he stood there, watching. There was nothing else featured in the hallucination except for the surgical table and its lonely occupant, the lump of bloody flesh disassembled on it. Small groans sounded from the woman now and then, and they were so sharp in the mute silence of the crowd that they could be heard echoing around. As though this entire hallucination was a cruel theatrical play and the throng of ghosts its audience. A throng of ghosts in which Raito was part of.

And Ryuuzaki…who would have thought.

_And Ryuuzaki._

They waited for the surgeon to return.

They waited and waited. Minutes went by, and, after a while, some members of the crowd around Raito seemed to become disinterested in the spectacle, choosing to leave well enough alone. Others, like Ryuuzaki – and consequently Raito – chose to stay until the end.

An hour must have gone by. Nothing really happened. They waited for the surgeon to return, his white plastic gloves which were seated on the table like a mockery of a presence that was most needed but most absent. The woman groaned, shuddered. She laboured to breathe.

Only then did Raito begin to realize what this was all about.

She inhaled with a shudder, then she slowly exhaled. It took a while.

Ryuuzaki didn't move until the woman on the table had left her very last, trembling, shaky breath.

Then, finally, she died.

The crowd around them started to disperse as the hallucination began to loop, replaying the entire thing from the beginning. Raito's eyes, by now, were fixed in front of him, unblinking. His expression was completely blank, as he was reliving his own personal experiences. It took a few minutes for him to regain touch with his surroundings, and by the time he came back to it, Ryuuzaki was already looking at him, the same quizzical hue in his black eyes.

Raito turned to look at the other as well, but his mind was filled with other things – what he'd just seen had reminded him almost with barbaric cruelty of the thing he never wanted to remember.

That thing…which had happened to him…

And along with that memory came the unadulterated and completely shameless feeling of desperation, of defeat and of a pain which does not belong in this world. He felt the loneliness of abandonment all over again, and he almost grabbed Ryuuzaki's shirt in order to assure himself he was not alone anymore. Within seconds, his attitude toward Mu changed again, and he suddenly started to view this grim world as a blessing, compared to the horrors of his Trial.

Ryuuzaki started walking away.

Raito followed wordlessly. He didn't want to be alone just yet.

"How curious." L's voice echoed, and Raito started slightly, caught in a trance "I saw a hallucination very much like this one a few days ago"

Ryuuzaki continued to elaborate. Apparently, in the apparition he'd seen, a French soldier from the trenches of the Great War had been the one on the surgical table, his leg having sustained irreparable damage. If the man were to survive, his leg would have to be removed. His wife had been begging the doctor to issue the proper medical care, but did not have the money to fund the operation. As such, the disgusting doctor had requested the next best thing: her body. So she sold herself to him in order to help her husband…and when her husband was finally cured, he called her a whore, and abandoned her.

That sounded very much like a memory from the real world, Raito thought, not just a bad dream. In fact, the former Kira immersed himself so much in this tale of fraud and injustice, and the complexities involved with punishment, that he was caught unawares when the sound of L's voice suddenly penetrated his thoughts.

"Yagami-kun…? Oi, Yagami-kun." The tone echoed and Raito blinked rapidly, shaking his head a bit to clear his thoughts. His vision finally zeroed in on Ryuuzaki, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression of neutrality, combined with something else – perhaps curiosity.

"Eh…?" Raito said, and immediately internally cursed himself for sounding inarticulate. It would take a lot of training to reinstall all the principles of self-restraint he had lost during his Trial, if he planned to be talking to Ryuuzaki again.

It was unclear when he had started thinking of Ryuuzaki as a potential piece of his reality, or even an option for a partner, but Raito was currently unwilling to overanalyze his own thoughts, so he let it pass.

Since the street was crowded, they couldn't really hear each other's voice and they were both being continually squashed by the pedestrians. So Raito started walking forward in a slow pace, heading toward the side of the road. Seeing that he was attempting to move out of the way of the heavy traffic, L followed.

However, as he was getting closer to the small group of trees on the side of the road, Raito realized that, if he stopped, he'd have to talk to Ryuuzaki. And he didn't presently have anything to say to Ryuuzaki. Or perhaps, he had too much to say, most of which he didn't want to talk or even think about. So, even when he reached the edge of the street and was able to stand still if he wanted, he actually continued walking.

He expected Ryuuzaki to question this, or at least say something about it, but, to his surprise, L just slipped into place at his side, matching Raito's pace step-for-step, not asking any questions.

He didn't know what Ryuuzaki thought, or if he could feel the tension, but, as for Raito, it felt as though strings were being pulled beneath his skin, where the extreme pressure in his tendons could not be seen. His nerves were ready to snap, as he suspected was the very air around him. There was just too much bad blood between them – they didn't really even like each other – and it felt as though they were just tolerating one another for plain politeness' sake. Besides, for the time being, Raito found the sound of Ryuuzaki's footfalls rather reassuring, even though this had nothing to do with Ryuuzaki's personality features – at least they weren't the ghastly toes of a non-existent Reaper.

But, in the end, even though Raito kept panicking and questioning all of this, they ended up walking like that for some time, until the orange trees were naught but a small speck in the distance, and the spectre of the Titanic was starting to become vague in the horizon. During their walk, Raito could feel something in his chest, like a constriction of his breathing space. It felt as though, for some reason, he was escorting Ryuuzaki – or any other person he could ever talk to – to a train that would take them far, far away from Raito's life. And then, as the girl had told Raito some time ago, they would probably never see each other again.

But it was not about Ryuuzaki – Ryuuzaki was a symbol of Raito's chance to be accepted for what he was. And honestly, since Matsuda had scorned him so openly in Mu, Raito was prepared from the same reaction from Ryuuzaki, which would surely come, eventually, be it sooner or later. Raito was preparing himself for the eruption.

What he got instead, after such a long trek, was a question.

"Why d'you reckon he left her there to die?" a voice suddenly floated, from within the mist of the surrounding muteness, and it took a moment for Raito to realize the question was being directed at him. He stopped for a millisecond, surprised not so much by the suddenness of it, but by the talkative intention behind it. In retrospect, he should have expected this, he thought with mild annoyance.

Ryuuzaki, regardless of having changed, would always remain the same. There was always something he wanted to observe, something he wanted to analyze. Who knows why he'd forced Raito to watch that hallucination? Raito didn't want to admit it to himself that he felt refreshed by the whole experience of it, or the fact that it reminded him of his life. Instead, he chose to accept it.

"It seemed not to be a real event, but a representation of her greatest fear…probably abandonment during a time of pain." Raito answered, with his eyes fixed straight ahead and not bothering to turn to Ryuuzaki at all. He kept walking, but his pace became slightly more relaxed, as though he were taking a stroll in the park instead of walking tersely alongside his lifelong nemesis.

"Even so…why a surgery?" Ryuuzaki questioned again, and Raito turned his head imperceptibly to observe the other, noticing that Ryuuzaki was looking straight ahead as well, walking in his distinctive, hunched way. The awkwardness didn't bother Raito as much as it once could have.

"Probably something to do with exposure…maybe helplessness, despair and such..." Raito said, weighing the possibilities in his mind.

"This kind of conduct is typical of abused or orphaned children…at times, even rape victims." The detective's voice floated around like nocturnal air, and Raito realized there was a thoughtful quality to it. However, when he heard the word rape, he stiffened unexpectedly, and his knuckles turned white. Unable to stop himself from being unaffected, he stopped walking momentarily. If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed, but Ryuuzaki definitely did. In any case, he didn't say a word about Raito's strange conduct, and continued walking as though never having seen anything.

"Maybe so." Raito said, succeeding in not sounding as stiff as he felt. It was one of Ryuuzaki's trademarks as an annoyingly capable detective to detect this kind of automatic symptoms where Raito could not. "In any case" Raito started, a bit more aggressively than necessary "this kind of speculation won't help anyone get rid of it." And by 'getting rid of it' he meant, of course, the process of resolving the hallucination.

Ryuuzaki seemed to understand immediately, but his answer surprised Raito.

"I think their purpose in blending here is hardly to get rid of them…perhaps observe and learn from them, instead."

Without controlling his reactions, Raito impulsively let out a loud snort. Then, too late to retract his unreserved brashness, he abided to it "Yes, that does sound very much like something you would think." Raito said, meaning it more as a private, ironic remark than anything else. He expected Ryuuzaki to bypass it and continue the conversation smoothly, as always.

"Excuse me?"

The voice suddenly came, as L stopped dead in his tracks. He spoke in a tone completely alien to anything Raito had ever come to associate with L before. Perhaps this was how Raito realized, coupled with L's narrow eyes, that perhaps he had struck…a nerve.

But since when did L have…nerves?

"I just mean that you like to watch people, instead of act. That's all." Raito said by means of explanation. He didn't want to come across as being defensive, but on the other hand, he really felt rather lost, when faced with the completely inconceivable concept of pressing Ryuuzaki's buttons. Ryuuzaki just…didn't _have_ any buttons! That's what made him Ryuuzaki! Raito considered saying that, but was unsure of what to say anymore.

An openly irritated Ryuuzaki was just…_not_ Ryuuzaki at all! Then again, on the other hand, if he'd never undergone his Trial, Raito would never become angry so easily either.

"Oh, I see." Ryuuzaki said with a deceptively calm voice, which sounded very much like his normal tone. However, he didn't resume walking, and just kept staring at Raito – no, not staring. _Glaring._ "But of course Yagami-kun doesn't like to see such blood and murder. You prefer taking care of things from afar."

But Raito had not gone through the entire Trial of Souls, just to get told off by a grumpy L. And if L had problems… well then, Raito's problems were ten times bigger.

Somewhere deep down, Raito realized how immature he was being. But on the other hand, this relief of not thinking felt so good – so very good – that he didn't want it to stop.

"That was a long time ago." He said through gritted teeth, and without realizing it, was clenching his fists at his sides. "And I never took care of anything without a good reason." After a beat, he said, in a much darker voice "You know that very well."

In the meantime, the sky overhead had turned much darker, and the wind had intensified, to the extent that the two men's hair constantly whipped around their faces as they spoke.

Suddenly, just as Ryuuzaki's face had been poised in an expression of mild annoyance, it switched back to complete neutrality again, momentarily reminding Raito of the L he'd always known. Unconsciously, Raito prepared his mental defenses. This was the kind of icy face that Ryuuzaki would always use before he went in for the kill.

"How old are you, Raito-kun?" the unexpected question suddenly came, and Raito was momentarily taken aback. But then, he detected where Ryuuzaki's argument was leading up to, and narrowed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw pumping as he stared at Ryuuzaki's slightly self-satisfied face. "You look older. You talk like you're older…But not old enough for Kira to have changed the world. Twenty-one, perhaps? Twenty-two?" he narrowed his eyes again, extremely calmly "Are a few years after my death all it took for God to undergo the death penalty?"

"At least I did what I did because I thought it was right! I had the courage to do the thing that everyone thought about, but no one actually dared to do!" Raito said, reminding himself that it was not prudent to raise his voice, but unable to help it at a time of such intensity "What's your excuse for being a coward?"

"The coward is the one who's afraid to kill unless he's writing names, Kira-k -" but Raito didn't let the familiar drawl continue, and interrupted immediately.

"I'm not the one who was too afraid to continue doing the thing I believed in, just because my life was in danger!"

"Somehow, I'm not prone to believe th-"

"Everything I ever did I only ever did for justice!"

"You don't even know what justice is!"

"And _you _do?"

"I'm sick of people thinking they can fool me!" L suddenly barked, and Raito was so shocked that he actually took a step backwards. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. No, he couldn't believe what he was _seeing._ In fact, he was so flabbergasted by the image of L's face, with its flushed cheeks, and its black eyes becoming onyx from the lights of fury, that the auburn-haired man momentarily let his jaw drop. But Ryuuzaki didn't stop there: "Do you really believe you're going to divert my attention _now_?"

And even though it was a vague accusation, Raito immediately understood exactly what Ryuuzaki was referring to.

"I didn't wish for things to end that way." He said, not realizing that his tone had turned defensively placating, if slightly indignant, when faced with L's rage "But I was prepared to take extreme measures for-"

L suddenly moved, leaning forward slightly and looking straight at the chestnut-haired man's face, as though to test him. Raito wasn't aware of it in his anger, but his cheeks reddened as Ryuuzaki's face fluttered into his close proximity.

"I've always acted in the name of my beliefs…and don't try to convince me that your ideals conflicted with mine, Ryuuzaki, because I know you too well. Death Penalty indeed." Raito bit back through gritted teeth, and by now he was sure that his eyes were clashing so hard with Ryuuzaki's that there must be sparks flying in the air. Ryuuzaki seemed to also be affected by this, because, now that Raito was noticing every small detail about the other, he realized that, strangely enough, L was shaking.

"Your arrogance and personal feelings of emotional impotence became the cause for the slaughter of thousands, Raito-"

But he never managed to finish that statement.

With one sudden motion, Raito had grabbed L's shoulders in a steel grip, squeezing them and pulling them forward, wringing Ryuuzaki as though he were a rag doll. The detective was probably too surprised to resist, as the chestnut-haired man dragged him forward, until Ryuuzaki's nose almost bumped against Raito's mouth.

"As if you didn't want them slaughtered." Raito said, in a harsh whisper aimed at Ryuuzaki's black-covered ear. "You just wanted the glory for yourself."

With a sudden jerk, L pushed at Raito's chest, forcing himself free again. As the hunched man's sharp knuckles dug in his skin, Raito thought he felt something like excitement, or adrenaline, sing within his veins.

"Perhaps." L stated, and, to Raito's glee, his eyes belied that he'd been more perturbed by their little spat than he let show "But what you fail – and always have failed – to admit to yourself is that principles are completely irrelevant to what you did." He stared deep into Raito's eyes, as though challenging him. The argument wasn't real. It was juvenile, especially for a man like L.

It wasn't the words. It was the need that was driving them to do this.

"No" Raito countered, without missing a beat "Principles are irrelevant to you. To me they are the -"

"Have you forgotten who you're talking to, Raito-kun? I know you." Ryuuzaki interrupted, and Raito felt the temperature rising in his blood. "The Shinigami gadget you used… It put something in you. I could feel it, even without looking at you. An aura of something." A beat of silence passed, and they looked straight into each other's eyes. The treble of L's next words hung between them, and Raito was daring him to say it.

"…something evi-"

But the word never finished, since, by that time, Raito had swung a full-fledged punch, and Ryuuzaki was obliged to dodge it. Before Raito knew what was happening, a bony ankle dug into the side of his neck, like the sting of a bee. He gritted his teeth and steeled his jaw, but there was no handcuff this time for him to lug L around. He had to punch again, faster.

It was a long fight. And this time, there was no Matsuda to stop them.

When it started raining, Raito could barely drag his feet across the unforgiving mud, which covered the side of the street. For every punch he gave, he received a kick in exchange.

Of course people stared as they walked by. Everyone stared. And if Raito had had half a mind to think of anything except the sweet redemption of torturously familiar, unbelievably brutal human touch, he would have realized that this was the surest way to attract peoples' attention. All he had to do was keep picking fights in public places, and then Misa would be bound to notice him, wherever she was.

At some point, a few people even tried to separate the two men, but the rivals would have none of it, and the strangers would sooner go their merry way than become collateral damage of anyone's ire.

And so the rain poured down. Ryuuzaki's shirt changed colours as Raito threw him down in the mud. His black hair looked longer wet than dry, and there were snake-shaped strands stuck on his nape, cheeks and lips. Raito threw punches without aiming, feeling the power sing through him. He felt horrible, with his trousers sticking to his thighs, his hair completely unruly and Ryuuzaki's pliers-like fingers lodged around his throat. It felt horrible, but, on another level it felt…good.

By the time the neon lights on the street had switched on, the two of them were still standing, by now throwing half hearted punches at each other, falling and supporting themselves on each other's shoulders as they still, until this late hour, tried to determine who was superior.

Perhaps this was proof of what would have happened if Matsuda had never been there to stop them. And within a few minutes, everything that Raito had learned in his Trial, his whole quest to discover the mysteries of justice and life had suddenly become secondary in face of the pure, simple pleasure of doing something he had done while he was alive. Something he had done during the more carefree years of his adult life, when he hadn't known he was Kira, and he'd had absolutely no reasons to feel neither nonplussed nor unsure about anything.

A nostalgic time.

As they struggled to remain standing, Raito's hands were on L's shoulders, and L's palm was fisted on the fabric on Raito's chest, trembling from the cold.

Had they acted unwise? Unquestionably. Had they shamed everything they'd recently learned by acting like adolescents? Certainly. Had they felt better than they had since the day they'd left their last breath? Absolutely.

The arguments of their fight had been childish. In retrospect, it became painfully clear that they'd never really intended to antagonize each other from the start. What was the point of arguing seriously, anyway? Everything was already over…there was no impact in the real world, and, just as Ryuuzaki had said, justice had nothing to do with it. It was all about pride, at this point.

So now, in Mu, where a man's interests were forced to become restrained in the most basic needs, certain things of more primal importance suddenly became pronounced, like human contact, hunger, loneliness. And as such, they both realized that there really was only one question to be asked – the one which had always been the most important: who was the most powerful? Who was the smartest? And if need be, who was the strongest?

In the end they fell down simultaneously, when L dragged Raito down with him by pulling on his shirt. In this way, no one had the privilege of calling himself the last man standing. Raito finally surrendered himself to the feeling of clear bliss, as he lay down on the mud, feeling the rainwater – the dead rainwater, probably from a rain in the living world – wash his face. And at this time, it almost felt as though this very rainwater was washing away something older than this dirt.

It hurt to move his head, but he still turned to see what Ryuuzaki was doing. Part of him didn't want to go to sleep; for fear that he'd find himself completely alone again come morning. Not that he particularly enjoyed Ryuuzaki's company…but still, now that the tension was finally diffused, and it was all over, he found there were certain issues Raito would want to discuss with Ryuuzaki. About ideals. About justice. Mostly about L's Trial, and what had happened in it to make L capable of expressing anger. However, for the time being, Raito felt at rest. At least his pride had been comforted, seeing that Ryuuzaki, even though having changed so much, was in an equally unstable situation as himself.

When Raito turned, he saw L lying completely supine, limbs spread completely open, in a way Raito had never seen before from this specific person. Ryuuzaki's head was turned away from Raito, so the only thing he could see was the blue glow of the jet black hair in the neon lights, reflected in the rain, and L's wet chest, heaving up and down from exertion.

He could see Ryuuzaki's bruised throat, and the beginning of his collarbone, which dipped into a filthy shirt. The wet skin looked fibrous, almost silken to the touch. Raito squinted a bit in the darkness, and he saw the way that the rain started gradually cleansing the thin white shirt.

As Raito was observing this a bit absentmindedly, he noticed a ridge on Ryuuzaki's chest, and it took a moment for him to realize what he was looking at with such extreme curiosity. The nipple looked as firm as pebble, beneath the strained wet fabric. If Raito squinted hard enough, he could see a dull brown colour. It seemed strange thinking of Ryuuzaki as a creature with…nipples. Raito had seen them once or twice, but…still, most of the time, he tended to conveniently forget Ryuuzaki was also supposed to be a human and not a computer. Today, this humanity seemed unusually pronounced.

The fact that there were pedestrians roaming the streets and sitting nearly everywhere around did not seem to bother him, as he continued staring at his focal points of interest. Had he been conscious, he would have mocked himself, since he was acting as though he'd never seen a male chest before in his life. But something about this was…different. Somehow, it felt as though Ryuuzaki's chest and any other man's chest were…completely different. Had Raito really wanted to admit it, he'd say that, deep down, despite having seen L topless, he'd always tended to think of Ryuuzaki's body as something vague and abstract.

Perhaps it was that huge, overpowering presence of L's extraordinary mind that dulled all the potential of his body. In any case, Raito thought, as he slipped in and out of the arms of Morpheus under the rain, 'In any case…L is better now that he's not such a hypocrite…'

In fact, Raito was so exhausted that he had not idea what on earth he'd dared to think about, before he completely lost himself to his blissful, sweet exhaustion, for the first time accompanied by a feeling of reassurance.

-

"Speak, my child" the whispery voice slithered through the curvy, elaborate woodwork of the cubicle. The boy sitting on the other side was barely tall enough to discern the outline of the priest's figure in the dimmed light, let alone speak. There were a few moments of silence, during which the priest patiently kept his eyes turned downwards– a mockery of human closeness, the boy thought – obviously waiting for the child to start talking.

But the more time passed, during which the boy stayed completely silent, the more the priest seemed to get impatient, or aggravated.

"My child?" the slightly impatient questioning tone came after fewer minutes than one would expect from a man of this occupation. As though he couldn't believe the boy had not started revealing the deepest darkness of his soul already. These little brats were all annoying, thinking of organized religion as more of a game than a constitution, the priest thought begrudgingly,

Actually, contrary to what the priest was thinking, the boy really was wracking his brain to think of something he could say, which would honour the purpose of this whole process. In the end, though, he could still think of absolutely nothing which was presently weighing down his soul, or tormenting his conscience, or anything equally poetic, really.

"Do not be frightened or ashamed," the efforts of the priest to sound jovial and understanding were largely fruitless when combined with the innate qualities of his voice, which sounded as low and sibilant as that of a snake – the wisps of his breath like the heavy pants of a predator eyeing its prey. The boy thought that this man had unusually blue eyes.

"This is a House of God…" the adult continued, not at all phased by the boy's unresponsiveness "whatever you say shall be kept confidential. In these walls…Think of me not as a person…because speaking to me is like confessing to God himself."

But truth be told, L was neither frightened nor ashamed. He was, as always, meticulous. He couldn't really understand how this whole concept would function properly. To be honest – and in his mind, he always told the truth – he didn't much feel like he was speaking to God at all. He was just sitting in a claustrophobic, wooden little cubicle, speaking to a nondescript man. Actually, a few nights prior, L had seen this man, Father Horatio, taking money in secret from some foreign stranger in one of the darker crannies of the orphanage courtyard. Of course, L had investigated, and soon realized that Father Horatio, in some cases, was not as keen to abide to his oath of confidentiality without any form of compensation – or something of the sort.

But L – along with the other children in the orphanage – had been repeatedly lectured about the importance of the Holy Sacrament of Confession, and how it was capable of relieving one's soul…and L especially remembered being told that he would have to master the inner psychological workings of Confession if he ever wanted to achieve the position of Great Detective . L was never one to much care about the mysteries of the supernatural…but even so, he did have an affinity for encyclopedic knowledge. And, after all, he viewed achieving this feat as a personal challenge.

Therefore, even though his eleven-year-old mind was constantly reminding him that this process was a testament of absolute stupidity, he tried to ignore the fact that he was sitting in a small dark room with an extortionist… and instead tried to focus on trying to make this work.

But the more he stood there thinking, the more he came to realize…he had nothing to confess. What would he say? And, more importantly, even if he did have something to say, why on earth would he be as completely foolish so as to say it to this habit-clad crook, and risk his inner musings be proclaimed to the world for a price?

More than anything, this concept of…revealing… clashed so severely with the integral elements of L's personality, that it became impossible for him to understand not only the method, but the very existence of this so-called 'Sacrament'.

"Well…?" the priest's voice echoed again, and L just stared back at him, blankly. All the other apprentices of the orphanage had come to this room before...now it was L's turn. And even though he had the will to prove himself to this austere, pretentious teacher and overcome a standstill…it just went against any principle he'd ever taught himself was important: secrecy, self-sufficiency, restraint, retentiveness, doubtfulness, logical analysis…

But L was only a boy now. He had not yet grown into the full potential of his ability, and the presence of an adult near him still made him jumpy and skittish. He had not yet turned into a man, nor realized what kind of impact his gaze could have on other living things, as he later would. Until now, he'd been just an observer – not a judge – absorbing any information he could process, disposing of nothing, and paying as much attention to detail as his hawk eyes allowed him. And since he was only now starting to experience the first vestiges of moral and ethical philosophy, he was – although he didn't know it – very confused about the nature of the world and, indeed, even his own psyche.

"I have nothing to say." He finally spoke, the maturity and conciseness in his tone a horrible clash with the childish squeak his vocal chords produced. But, even though he didn't yet know this, in just a few years time, these vocal chords would adjust to a deep bass drawl, and he would never have the misfortune of sounding so childish again.

"Nothing to say?" It was hard to say whether the man on the other side of the wooden pane was predominantly surprised, scandalized or amused. Begrudgingly, L realized it was probably the latter. As he was looking at the tongues of light that slipped through the soft wooden curves of the window, L realized he could now see the priest's blue eyes – an ugly, insanity blue – trained on him, contrary to the customs of Confession. After all, no instrument of God would ever have the vanity to look at someone like that: only a human would have this stare.

L didn't need to think anymore. He'd already processed everything in his mind, and reached his conclusion.

"No." he answered impartially. "Nothing at all."

"I find that extremely unlikely." Father Horatio's patronizing tone rung and L, prepubescent as he was, felt a distinctive spark of a very human-based petulancy ignite in his chest. This priest was not only decidedly disinteresting…he was even treating L as we would any other random child. How dare he…didn't he know…? But L would be damned if he ever let show his private annoyance.

"There is nothing." The boy stood by his initial thesis. He didn't even bat an eyelid as he stared at the priest – who was openly trying not to become annoyed – through the shadows of the wooden surfaces.

"It is a sin for a human to believe they are flawless, child…and I'm sure you do not understand the impact of what you say…" the priest started, still infuriatingly calm, showing he was thinking that it was useless to become frustrated over a _child_. "Now search deep within your soul…there must be something you can find in there….something that is weighing down your conscience. If you confess this to God, and openly accept your sin, your soul will feel delivered, and be redeemed…there is nothing to fear, for I shall not judge-" the man continued his useless tirade, but L had long before stopped paying attention to what he was saying and started focusing on the way he was saying it: calmly, with a deceptively sage tint of fabricated wisdom.

And L – a new learner in matters of human dialogue – was amazed at the impact this deception could have on other people, who thought of this priest as a holy man, and not as the crook he really was. The young L, a nincompoop in matters of ethics – admired this kind of power.

In the future, to L's unexplainable discomfort, Sir Whammy would often say that the Great Detective's disguised venom, deceptive morality and unexpected scorpio sting were rather reminiscent of the more sinister members of the clergy.

But for now, after noting down the priest's conduct, L bypassed everything the priest actually said, opting to ignore the fact that, even if he tried hard to think about it, he couldn't come up with anything personal enough to say for the purpose of confessing. In order to avoid feeling disappointed, or thinking that there was something wrong with his soul, the boy focused on the other man's conduct. After a brief silence, in which the boy's interest had switched from the purpose of Confession to the attitude of the man in front of him, L spoke again.

"I can't think of anything such as what you're describing." He concluded with ironic honesty, eager to test the priest's patience and the man's reaction to prolonged strain.

"And what about your future?" the man said, not letting his tone show any annoyance, but remained undisturbed and genial. "Don't you care about the state of your soul – the way it shall rot if you do not cleanse it now?"

There was a small pause in L's brain, during which he processed this new bit of information, weighing the possibilities of danger. He concluded that this talk of souls was naught but pointless drivel, and that he had nothing to fear. So he continued with pure honesty.

"I don't have a precipitant need to confess anything right now." He said, and the priest appeared taken aback at the advanced vocabulary. The man pressed on, however, seemingly trying – more from personal pride than actual interest – to make L yield to his will. The priest was not so patient anymore…when he spoke again, his voice was nothing like the bored acquiescence of before. Now, he sounded completely frosty…he sounded plain hostile, and the switch in his expression was startling to say the least. There was a part in L, the prepubescent orphaned part; that felt slightly intimidated. He started to admire this priest even more, for being able to intimidate him.

"If that is indeed the case, then you must learn the importance of purity and cleanliness…for the sake of one's soul." The priest concluded, and L acquired a slight sinking feeling, which he quickly suppressed. But the priest's blue eyes had become a colder shade of blue than before, and his lips had drawn back to an ugly grimace.

"If you refuse the Holy Sacrament of Confession" the priest started, and turned to look away from the boy "Then I have no choice, as a shepherd, to safely lead my flock to virtue. And as such, you shall be made to _climb_…in order to learn the importance of dignity, humility and maturity, my child. "

Even though the priest had not specified what he'd meant by 'climb', L had understood perfectly. Seven hundred and sixty steps of a spiral, narrow staircase, which would lead him to the dome of the cathedral. That's what he'd have to climb if he weren't careful not to anger this priest. And it was not the climbing that L feared. It was the fact that he'd be forced to stay up there, hundreds of feet above the earth, for all the afternoon.

Suddenly, and completely shamelessly, the level of priorities seemed to switch with extreme speed inside L's brain.

"Now that I think of it" he started, looking at the priest with unblinking black eyes "I do have something to confess…" Perhaps, L thought, if he was clever about it, he could kill two birds with one stone: on the one hand avoid the dire punishment and on the other simultaneously establish himself as the smarter of the two. After all, it was a fact that whenever L found a person he admired, he rushed to antagonize that person, rejoicing in proving himself better than someone he considered a worthy opponent.

The young L did not yet know, of course, that long years from this moment, at a cool April morning, he'd be staring across the Tokyo University Lecture Theatre, watching Light Yagami walk inside in his pinstripe suit, covered with the scent of sakura petals.

Even L did not yet know.

"Oh?" the priest asked, his interest renewed and his satisfied glee completely shameless. He obviously thought he'd won and made the 'little brat' behave properly. On the outside, L fortified this impression by acting obedient. But where the priest was expecting to hear a certain kind of story, he had another thing coming, L thought privately, with unusual excitement.

"Yes" L continued, his voice expressionless. There was some kind of primal thirst growing in his mouth, as though his tongue was begging to utter the next few words. And the more he saw the priest's smug face hover in front of him, the more the wild need for redemption seemed to intensify. Without flexing even a muscle of his face, L continued speaking in the same stale, blank tone. "A few nights ago, when the others were playing in the yard, I walked to the back of the church courtyard-" the priest's face seemed to twitch imperceptibly into an expression of slight worry "And then" L continued, with a violent happiness throbbing in his gut "I got surprised, because I saw a very distinguished member of the Brotherhood hiding in some obscure corner of the gardens, exchanging money with what seemed to be a less than appropriate friend." And during the whole time he was speaking, he was looking straight into the priest's eyes, as though daring him to say anything.

And the more he spoke with those unblinking eyes, the more the priest seemed to lose his footing, as he probably realized what he was being told…and could find no way to show his discomfort. Until, in the end of L's monologue, the priest glared at the boy with open hostility.

A few moments of silence passed, during which L and the priest stared at each other, the pastor with a glare and L with a blank, emotionless gaze. Minutes passed, and there was an illumination, an intoxicating deliverance in L's soul which he'd never experienced before.

Victory.

Father Horatio's eyes had turned to oceanic crystals as they pierced through L's skin. His lips had turned to a tight, shivering knot, his eyebrow was twitching unabashedly and his fingers were shaking in their interlocked position, as though he was straining to keep himself from harming the child.

"Seven hundred and sixty steps" the man finally said, and, as L had imagined, his voice now sounded monstrously deep and having none of the fabricated geniality of before. "That is the way children learn…respect." His voice trembled slightly as he uttered the last word and, through the dim window of the cubicle, even L could see that the other was trembling with self-restraint, obviously trying not to let himself do something violent in broad daylight.

Eventually, even though he'd confessed his supposed sin, L had been forced to climb, so as to be taught a lesson. And even as he tried to stop the primal fear from gripping him when climbing the endless steps, alone in the narrow staircase, he felt, for perhaps the first time in his entirely too prolonged existence, the feeling of unadulterated glee. Because he'd won, for once. He'd won, and the limelight was on him.

All on him.

In the end, L found that this 'Confession' game was indeed as powerful as rumoured, and it suited his taste perfectly…Crooks and criminals don't like to be told their sins and L had discovered something new about himself: he liked forcing people to do what they don't like, and oblige them not only to do it, but to thank him for forcing them.

Naturally, revealing to a potential crook that he knew all kinds of sordid secrets was a dangerous thing for L to do…but the boy did not yet know this. And most probably, in retrospect, had the priest truly been malicious, he would have killed L at that time. But before Horatio could say or do anything to L in order to silence him, the man with the moon-shaped spectacles, Sir Whammy of aristocratic descent, had appeared. He'd explained to L, with his familiar precision and commitment, that this entire 'confession' scenery had been a scheme – a test – to measure L's reasoning ability.

To ascertain to what extent L was ready to take on the duties of a detective.

L had qualified, but with one fault: he'd been too foolhardy, Whammy said. He'd been so eager to win – to achieve victory – that he'd been too hasty with showing his power to his opponent. If L were to become the Great Detective, he would need more self-restraint and less personal involvement in his investigations…he would need to become the hidden ace in his own sleeve.

"There is no greater ally you shall ever find, my boy" Whammy had said, as he treated a wide-eyed L a particularly soft, pastel-coloured ice-cream cone "Than yourself."

L was always a meticulous person. If need be, he dotted all the 'i's and crossed all the 't's. And most importantly, even though he never displayed this ability in the later years of his life as a detective, he knew how to follow directions.

After all, as he would much later rejoice in telling Kira, over and over again, one could not become king without first proving himself a lord.

With this last fated confession, L's first stage of detective practice had ended. It was now time for more advanced training. Until now, L had viewed his own life from a rather impersonal perspective, too absorbed in the bustling business of others to care about his own. However, after seeing Father Horatio's face – even if it had all been just a scheme – that infuriated look of hatred that had passed the man's face had carved itself into the boy's memory forever, as his first truly happy memory…. L marveled at the way that, for once, someone's eyes had been trained completely on his face and not vice versa – even though it had been a look of malice, it had been a look reserved completely for L. A look that was concrete proof of L's superiority, L's ability, L's powers…L's victory.

In time, as Whammy often said, the whole world would see and know. 'L' would blind them …a colossal giant stifling England, until the world would be completely saturated with its power. And why stop there? Why only England? Why not the whole of Europe? Why not America? Why not…the whole World?

L liked thinking about it. As he would climb each invisible step and solve each case – like the seven hundred and sixty steps of the cathedral – he'd come closer to the sky, closer to omniscience. In his mind he could actually visualize it: each of his jerky movements, each of the disturbed children he'd had to endure in this god-forsaken place, each of the thick black strands in his hair...they would all grow, all coalesce, until they would form a gigantic, sharp black beacon, which would stand poised above the globe like a monolith. Like the all-knowing eye. Like a blinding relief against the light, able to be see across the corners of the earth – no, the entire galaxy – until every living creature in the vicinity would whisper it in their dreams.

L

-

When Raito opened his eyes again the next morning, he didn't realize why he felt so unusually calm. It was as though some kind of weight had been lifted from his chest, to the extent that, in those few moments that transpired between waking up and opening his eyelids, he almost forgot he was in Mu.

It was too early in the morning and he'd just woken up, so he didn't remember the exact reason behind his unexplained, rather strange sense of relief. The first thing he managed to discern in his blurry vision was a slightly fuzzy outline of a black building, and the icy grey background of a cloudy sky.

'_Ryuuzaki_'

It all came back. Raito, who'd been sleeping turned to his side, whirled around immediately, moving his head back and forth frantically in search of the familiar curl of L's body.

'_He's gone. He's gone after all' _if he'd had half a mind to realize the level of anxiety he was undergoing, he'd have tried to restrain or question himself about it. As it were, however, Raito sat up immediately, bringing his hands to cradle his tired head for a few seconds and then lowering them again, moving his head around in a renewed search for the detective. There were people everywhere, as always, trying to cling to the last vestiges of sleep during the wee hours of the morning, or walking around already…but L was nowhere in sight…

Should he call…? Should he-? Nah…probably-

"Raito-kun"

Raito turned immediately, his eyes effortlessly narrowing down on the figure walking toward him. Now in broad daylight, the dirty stains and pathetic state of L's clothing was obvious. After a night of brawling in the rain, the detective's hair was caked with a layer of dried mud, as were sections of his face. Even so, as he approached and Raito had a chance to stare at him, it looked as though there was a glow emitted from his diamond white shirt. As though there was a sense of elegance in the lines that comprised the curves of the fabric-

"Water?" L asked, and Raito realized that the other had been lugging a filthy-looking yellow bucket, filled to the brim with transparent liquid.

Raito didn't have to stand up, since L silently approached. Raito rubbed his eyes with his hands as he heard the sound of the bucket hitting the ground, then felt L settle on the ground a few feet beside him.

"Thanks." Raito said, looking at the water with surreptitious suspicion. It wouldn't do to inform L that he was wary of the water in this place, and that it tended to transform to cockroaches or other kinds of monsters around him. Raito decided he'd wait and see how the water interacted with Ryuuzaki before trying it for himself.

He faked a yawn and pretended to stretch in order to waste some time, but, as it turned out, he didn't have to go to such lengths. L fearlessly plunged both his palms in the clear water – Raito noticed the long pale fingers, and only now realized that he hadn't seen them for a while – and splashed a healthy amount of liquid on his face.

Following his lead, and trying not to appear skittish, Raito proceeded to put his hands in the water too. He hoped, despite his better judgement, that since he was with another person now, Mu would spare him and not create as many problems for him.

But it was not meant to be.

Just as he pulled his hands out of the bucket, intent on splashing some of the much-needed liquid on his face, the clearness of the water disappeared, its fresh scent and texture thickened, and soon, just as he'd feared, Raito had a handful not of the liquid of life, but of monstrous, small insects.

Not even the most restrained of men would have managed to keep his composure, however, unwilling to lose face in front of a former rival.

"Argh!" Raito exclaimed, shooting up to a standing position immediately, and reflexively throwing the water-turned-cockroaches away from his body. He turned around and walked a few restless paces, letting the goosebumps wrack his skin and muttering "shit" a few times over. A splashing sound was heard as the insects hit the ground, and a few pedestrians walking by made estranged, disapproving or sympathetic faces, and then continued walking.

"What is it?" L's voice suddenly sounded, and Raito's stomach dropped as he was suddenly reminded where he was and who he was with. Realizing he'd just let himself make a scene – however suppressed – in front of Ryuuzaki, he immediately steeled his expression, willing himself to gather all the composure he had left.

"Nothing" he answered noncommittally, not daring to sit down near that blasted bucket again. He contented himself hovering over Ryuuzaki instead, trying to make himself feel confident once more. "The water was too cold for me. I just woke up"

Ryuuzaki watched him for a few seconds. Raito didn't bat an eyelash.

There was a terse silence as they stared each other down, each expecting the other to crack. Raito's eyes almost dared Ryuuzaki to oppose his blatant lie. Until finally, the pressure valve was opened.

"Naturally" L answered. Then he turned to stare back at the bucket, a look of apathy on his face. "I understand."

Raito considered answering something to that quizzical statement, as he looked at L curiously. The detective's words seemed to hide an underlying meaning, as though Ryuuzaki knew more than he was letting on. Then, without another word, Ryuuzaki obliged himself, grabbing the entire bucket of water and bringing it above his head. Raito felt slightly jealous of the detective's ability to feel so free with the coveted liquid. At least he didn't have to go through Raito's constant panic.

L looked at him for a moment, with the water suspended over his head. Raito looked at him questioningly.

"What?" he finally asked, staring down at the other.

"Nothing" L answered, and if Raito didn't know any better he'd say Ryuuzaki looked rather comical like this, like a little kid who's managed to snatch an entire cake from under his mother's nose.

Then, before Raito had the chance to say anything more, L flipped the bucket backwards, drenching himself – hair, face, clothes and shoes included. Raito stared at him for a few moments, noticing that L shook a bit for a few moments, then started waving his hands a bit, as though he were a dog trying to dry itself.

But L's face looked pained as he stood up. He looked at the bucket for a few moments, and Raito thought at some point that the detective was going to kick it. But instead of an act of violence, L simply bent forward.

"This seems like a rather useful tool. I think I'll keep it."

Raito shrugged behind the other's back, watching L gather the ugly thing in his hands.

"Suit yourself." The chestnut haired man said "When it comes to me, I prefer to use the houses if I need a bath." The implications of this statement were left unsaid. That didn't stop Ryuuzaki from turning immediately to look at Raito's face, an expression of completely alien speechlessness poised over his features.

Apparently, L also knew exactly what happened inside the houses. He probably couldn't believe that Raito would voluntarily enter them.

The Japanese man swallowed thickly as he met Ryuuzaki's eyes, and his open lips. He wasn't used to this kind of expressiveness. He didn't feel…comfortable with it.

Then, after a while, L seemed to gather his thoughts again. The detective turned away, looking at the distance along with Raito.

"To each his own, Raito-kun" the crow-man said, and his eyes seemed to scan the street, obviously searching for the one important, familiar face in an ocean of unfamiliar ones. "To each his own."

A few minutes of silence passed, during which Raito felt Ryuuzaki's last words weighing down on him – 'to each his own'…a bitter treatise of his isolation. He looked upwards as he felt a few pricks on his face, realizing that the wind was causing small pebbles to hail around them.

Without turning to L, he spoke again; his eyes meticulously scanning the crowd for any sign of Misa.

"Where on earth did you find that thing, anyway?" he asked with a nonchalant voice, referring to the bucket. The non sequitur, he knew, would be an ideal way to reinstall a conversation, and prevent a stifling silence from developing once more.

"It was just lying near a well, not far from the High Street" L answered, his cooperativeness rather unusual. Upon realizing Ryuuzaki had walked away from the High Street – where they'd fallen asleep together last night – he was intrigued.

"You woke up much earlier than I did, then?" Raito didn't like the idea of it.

"Not much, per se."

"I see."

A few more moments passed. A sudden scream ripped through the relatively calm atmosphere, immediately followed by others. The hallucinations had reappeared around them…the day was officially beginning. Not that there weren't any apparitions during the night, but not nearly as much as during the day.

"Well, then…" Raito started, his voice indicating the beginning of a greeting. And indeed, he was preparing to say goodbye. Even though he hadn't even said half of the things he wanted…he knew he couldn't expect anything more, really – although judging by the pang in his chest, he clearly had been expecting something, which he hadn't even been aware of.

"Well…" L echoed, his tone also as dismissive as Raito's.

"I'm walking that way" Raito said, pointing toward the blurry horizon. He only assumed that L had already walked toward that direction, since he'd seen Ryuuzaki walking toward the opposite direction before. Upon meeting Ryuuzaki's eyes, he felt the need to specify "In search for…Misa, of course…and…you?"

"Oh" L started, and Raito's heart made a rather strange jolt as the detective moved his eyes away. "Well," L started again, and the beat definitely augmented in Raito's eardrums. "…I either have to go that way" Ryuuzaki pointed to the completely opposite direction from which Raito had indicated. The chestnut-haired man felt some kind of grip squeeze his lungs at L's words. It was confirmed. There was no way L would happen to-

"or that way." And he pointed straight at the same blurry horizon that Kira had indicated just before.

"That's because I came from there." L turned to show the third route in the three-way crossroads, a route Raito had not yet visited.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Raito couldn't bear it any longer, and turned his eyes to the ground. Had L just suggested…that he come with Raito? It certainly sounded like it. Suddenly, the chestnut haired man felt rather bashful for no reason.

"Either one's fine with me, really..." the detective said as an afterthought, and Raito didn't raise his eyes from the ground until only after the other had finished the sentence. He realized rather reluctantly that L was giving him the responsibility of making the invitation.

"You said you're looking for Whammy, right?" As if he could ever forget. He was just trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

But in his efforts to seem uninterested, Raito didn't realize his error until too late. Only as L's attention shuttered down on him did he mentally slap himself.

L's eyes were sharp.

"Who else's name do you know?" the drawl came, and this time Raito looked straight into the other's eyes. These moments, the moments that they weren't being themselves – the words that they spoke not as Ryuuzaki and Raito but as L and Kira – were the easiest ones. At these moments, Raito could feel confident and in control again. He was sick of socializing, of being forced to notice all kinds of stupid things about Ryuuzaki that would never be of any use to him…Kira's role was much easier. Hating felt much more familiar.

"I think I'll let you wonder some more time, L."

Unexpectedly, the one side of L's lips rose in a half-smile. Raito was rather taken aback by the expression, as he tried rather hard not to notice the new, unseen angles it added to L's face.

"Just by that statement, Kira-kun, I can see that you know less than I imagined."

"Don't call me-" but Raito stopped himself, making a muscle pump in his jaw and turning his eyes away briefly, as though to calm himself. Then, he turned to look back at the other's smug face, intending to reverse the tables once more "So, have you made up your mind? What is it going to be?" he asked, referring of course to which direction L would walk.

And indeed, Ryuuzaki was successfully caught unawares, seeing as the smile slipped off his features and his eyes immediately became not even half as sharp as before.

"I…" he started, and Raito, despite having all the will to feel cruel and vindictive, couldn't stop a sliver of empathy from overcoming him, upon seeing that intensely confused face.

Minutes passed, and they'd stopped looking at each other. Until finally, Raito turned, only to see Ryuuzaki staring at his own defiled tennis shoes, kicking a red pebble back and forth and watching it roll around on the ground. It finally became clear that Ryuuzaki would not end that sentence. Therefore, Raito took it upon himself to amend the situation, and find a solution. Although he doubted L would wish to come with him…

"I guess, maybe if you walk that way too" Raito started, aware he was floundering with the effort to find an effective excuse but unwilling to overanalyze his own motives. However, even though he had the will, his mind was at a loss, and he could not conjure anything even remotely plausible, or interesting, to say. He turned to watch L, realizing that the other was expecting something and not participating in the thinking process. Finally, Raito settled for the best he could muster.

"Maybe you can…maybe we'll have more chances with the hallucinations."

What the hell did that mean? Not even Raito knew. What chances with hallucinations? As in, 'resolving the hallucinations'? But L didn't like resolving them, did he…? This must be the worst-sounding excuse in the chronicles of Raito's admittedly short life. In Raito's mind, it practically cried out 'I don't want to look for her on my own! Even if it's you, please come with me!' It sounded pathetic, even in his thoughts.

And yet, Ryuuzaki nodded.

"Maybe. And since I haven't gone there anyway…" L simply said.

Silence reigned supreme for a few moments, as Raito digested the information.

"So you-" Raito started, snapping rather quickly and gesturing vaguely toward the general vicinity of L's person, in the effort to mask his disbelief.

"I suppose."

Raito restrained himself from nodding neurotically, tapping his foot on the ground, staring at his fingernails, crossing his arms over his chest or otherwise indulging in nervous gestures. He settled for gritting his teeth instead.

"Well, then, I guess we should-"

Raito didn't finish that sentence verbally. But he waved toward the street in front of him, and Ryuuzaki started moving without waiting for the statement to be concluded.

Internally glad for the elevation of the constant pressure, Raito let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding behind Ryuuzaki's back, and then started walking quietly after the other. Naturally, they would pretend that the former conversation had never taken place.

For the first few moments, as they squeezed through the various people crowding the streets, they felt the atmosphere between them grow dark and heavy. At some point, Raito became so hyper-aware of the other man's movements that he came to wish he had not accompanied Ryuuzaki after all.

As they would soon discover, however, temporarily leaving their interpersonal issues behind was much easier than they'd initially expected. After they'd walked a bit more than fifty yards, the silence stopped being oppressive and uncomfortable, and started feeling natural and familiar. They soon both started staring around their new surroundings, flabbergasted by the amazingly large buildings around them.

If it weren't for the soft sound of footfalls on his left, Raito would have thought he was completely alone once again, surrounded by silence, walking amongst a perplexed, mute panic. But, even though he wasn't currently utilizing his newfound ability to speak to another soul, it felt comforting to know he had the option of doing so, if he wished.

For the time being, however, he did not have much time to ponder the mysteries of camaraderie – or lack thereof – seeing as he was preoccupied with the amazing buildings in the environment: the houses were of old western architectural style, and Raito was sure that he'd only seen this type of building in textbooks before.

"Are these houses medieval, or from the Renaissance?" Raito asked, watching the imposing, Gothic arches of a very particular, rotund-shaped structure. He didn't fully understand the true extent of his internal joy upon being able to communicate these thoughts to another. In fact, he'd been so casual about speaking to Ryuuzaki that, when he finally spoke, his voice seemed magnified in the silence of the crowd.

"I doubt it is neither. This style was popular in England in the late Victorian Period." Ryuuzaki's voice carried the distinctive deductive hue. As the man's heavy, husky tone sounded, several heads in the silent throng of people turned around. This was, perhaps, the moment Raito got his greatest shock.

Now that he was speaking to another person…everyone could hear him. In fact, they were the only ones who were talking in this entire crowd, apart from the shrieking hallucinations. Raito did not fail to detect the gazes of unadulterated envy that some were shooting him.

"Could it be that Mu is separated into sections?" Raito asked, lowering his voice and moving a bit closer to Ryuuzaki.

"It is true that different parts of this dimension seem to have different themes." L answered, nodding his head slightly but looking at the sides of the street, not at Raito. They were huddled closely together, mostly in order not to lose sight of each other or get lost in the bizarre labyrinth of the crowd. "At some point, I even visited a place which featured clusters of Aztec structures."

Raito took note that Ryuuzaki offered this information with the suspicious directness which had recently become the norm. He also registered that, judging by Ryuuzaki's integration in this environment, he must have probably arrived here before Raito himself – which only made sense, judging by the times of their death, Kira thought, with a slight tint of unwelcome guilt.

"How long have you been here then?" Raito finally asked, lacing his voice with a hue of disinterest and looking anywhere but at the back of L's head. He saw L's hair flutter from the corner of his eye, and realized L had turned to look at him. Raito kept his face turned away. He didn't want to see the meaningful gaze, filled with implications.

"I believe you will find that there is no sense of time in this place, Raito-kun." Ryuuzaki's voice rigidly stated, and Raito could not refrain from frowning at the distance. Here he'd expected L to throw some caustic remark about the fact that Raito had sent him here, so he should know when Ryuuzaki had died, but the black-haired man had simply taken the question at face value. "As there is no sense of time in the afterlife, in general."

Raito swallowed, blinked a few times and kept his gaze steadily locked on the imposing marble buildings around them. He knew perfectly well what Ryuuzaki had meant by 'afterlife', of course…but he was not ready to acknowledge openly that he had gone through that Trial just yet.

The chestnut haired man kept silent after that, and, a few minutes later, the conversation was permanently dropped. They walked silently, very much like the undead ghouls that they were, doomed to walk the land ceaselessly, until they'd find the person ordained for them.

As they were walking and wondering what the buildings around them might be hiding on the inside, Ryuuzaki suddenly stopped, causing Raito – who hadn't been paying attention – to stumble and hit the other man's back. After recovering with a slight mutter, Raito immediately turned upward to see what on earth was going on, which had caused L such interest.

As Raito raised his eyes, he expected to see another building, or perhaps – though he didn't like to consider the possibility – even Whammy. And if L found Whammy, then he'd leave, and Raito would be left alone to-

"That building…why…?" L's voice sounded, and Raito turned to the direction the detective was looking at. But no sooner had he laid his eyes on it, than a sudden jolt erupted in his chest, and his heart started to palpitate painfully.

There was a man standing there, miles above the earth. Beneath the endless plains of glass window and metal scaffolding, a huge crowd of people was gathered, looking upwards, their hands stretched upwards. Around the area of that building, the sky was not icy grey, but filled with orange and pink hues.

"…Let's go." Raito said, his heart having reached extreme levels of painfulness by now.

"Just a moment, Rai-"

But Raito grabbed Ryuuzaki's upper arm and pulled the other man away, forcing L to look away and follow him. The Japanese man started walking toward the side of the High Street, in order to avoid meeting that image again.

"Wait!" Ryuuzaki ordered solidly, proceeding to pluck his arm out of Raito's grip. Raito turned around, the look on his face a mixture of annoyance and slight panic.

"This way is quicke-"

Not listening to the man's words, L turned around again, black threads of hair flowing in the wind, and Raito fought the urge to cover the other man's eyes to prevent him from realizing what he was seeing, knowing he'd only make things worse.

But just as Ryuuzaki turned back to where they'd seen the huge building before, and just as an exasperated Raito followed him, they both froze.

"Where..?" L asked, and Raito was amazed by the sheer talkativeness Ryuuzaki was displaying. Raito didn't remember the detective being half as intrinsic, or spontaneous about his responses to the environment.

Glad he'd escaped the peril of humiliation and fear, but rather disturbed by the fact that the hallucination had disappeared unexplainably, Raito was left just as speechless as his temporary companion.

"Wasn't that the Headquarters building just now?" L asked, his black irises scanning the vicinity with clear mistrustfulness and suspicion, as though realizing that the world of Mu was playing games with him.

Raito, his heart still beating wildly, tried to combat the inner panic which had awoken upon seeing that image, and focused on distracting L as best as he could.

"I'm not sure." He answered, hoping he didn't sound even half as anxious as he really was. Ryuuzaki's eyes zeroed on him, observing him meticulously for signs of dishonesty. Obviously, Raito had become much less confident than before his death, not to mention rather significantly less adept at restraining his own emotions. L found what he was looking for.

"It dematerialized." L continued, as though not having heard Raito's last statement.

"I'm hungry. Let's find something." Raito said, nodding at the side of the road and nodding toward a batch of trees. There were hordes of people already fighting to reach the rotten fruits, and Raito knew he'd have to wait a long time before he could get his hands on some food. However, he was willing to go through anything in order to forget what he'd almost just seen.

"Why did you pull me away?" But Raito ignored the question, continuing to walk as though never having heard anything.

Ryuuzaki didn't say anything as he walked behind Raito, but the auburn-headed man could feel the two black diamonds bleed into his back, their sharp stare making him feel trapped.

They queued up silently, waiting for their lunch.

No matter how much time passed, however, or how many Victorian buildings loomed over them, Raito's heart was beating irregularly, and he could not feel at rest.

This was one of the times that he truly could not wait to find Misa.

-

He didn't really know how it happened, actually. He knew how it started, but not how or why it managed to evolve so much. It was one thing staying together for a while, or even a couple of nights just to keep company. But it was completely different remaining together after that.

Most of the time, L was silent, and they didn't really talk much about anything. The highlights of their day were their lunchtime and those few times that each of them thought they'd spotted the person they were searching for – in Raito's case, Misa – only to later discover that it was someone else, and that they'd been mistaken.

They slept in the humid, narrow dark streets that surrounded the central area or, if they had had enough of the constant hallucinations, they walked out the sides of the streets and entered the silent, outer world of Mu. In the mornings they woke up, Ryuuzaki not always awake before Raito, and washed. Raito did not approach the water, of course, but rather enviously watched Ryuuzaki splatter it over his black head with the bucket.

They'd lost count of how many days they'd walked together, but it must have been more than a week and less than a fortnight. Ever since the day he'd seen the apparition of the Headquarters building, Raito's efforts to find Misa had doubled, as had his constant sense of nervousness. He felt like a fugitive, caught in a struggle between expressing his panic and not allowing Ryuuzaki to detect it.

However, now away from computers, work or modernization of any sort, Raito was obliged to admit that Ryuuzaki was not half as annoying as he once was. Perhaps it was also Raito's views of 'annoying' which had changed, but it was a fact that Ryuuzaki's features suddenly did not seem as aggravating as when they were both alive.

Not that they were friends, of course. But the atmosphere between them was not that between two unforgiving rivals either. More than anything, overall it felt like they were involved in a common struggle, a trek. They were tolerating each other, and that was that.

One day, as they were walking quietly amongst the picturesque English scenery – since they still hadn't left the section of Mu involved with this kind of architecture – Raito turned to look at the back of Ryuuzaki's head.

"Ryuuzaki" he called, and watched the other man slowly turn around, a questioning hue in his eyes. "You have a…thing. Right here." Raito motioned at his own face, showing Ryuuzaki where his face was dirty.

L raised his hand, wiping the side of his face with his sleeve at the place Raito had indicated.

"No, the other side." Raito motioned again, and L successfully ran his sleeve over the place the other man had told him. But the filth still did not come off. Instead, Ryuuzaki flinched slightly as his hand made contact with the small batch of reddish blackness on his cheekbone.

"That's a bruise, Raito-kun." L said, lowering his hand and shaking his head slightly at Raito, resuming his walking. After a few moments of realization, Raito quietly followed, resolving to keep his mouth shut.

Of course it was a bruise. He'd been the one to put it there, only this morning.

Naturally, they'd fought again. That first fistfight beneath the rain was a precursor for others, and today was probably one of those days. But, despite being childish, Raito thought, feeling the pleasant, refreshing sensation of ache in his ribs, where L's ankle had hit him, this fighting felt rather rejuvenating. Not that he'd ever say that to L, of course, even though he suspected Ryuuzaki thought the same.

However, Raito had not realized the full-fledged alteration in L's character until a few days later. Until then, he'd thought that L's trial had simply made him much more expressive, or less suspicious of others. He had yet to discover the impact of it on the rest of L's conduct.

They'd just stopped walking for the day, and the sky was quickly darkening. In fact, it was quite cold, and Raito felt increasingly filthy. Today they had decided to leave the streets and recede to the outskirts, to see how the outer world of Mu was faring.

As always, the forests had no wind blowing through them, the animals looked starved, there were piles of rusty objects and machines lying in various pits around them, and there were small huts above hills, from which newcomers constantly exited. Newcomers in Mu, that is. Raito vaguely wondered what happened in case a baby died. What kind of Trial would a baby be put through…? He'd never seen a baby yet, in Mu, only children from four years of age and upwards.

He didn't like to think about it.

"I need a bath." Raito had said, looking at his clothes with an unsuppressed expression of disgust.

L, who'd been sitting on the ground and leaning on the crumbling wall behind him, did not answer. Raito sat up a bit, resting on his elbows and looking at the other man.

"I'll go take one."

Ryuuzaki, who'd been observing a specific small hut on a faraway hill, lethargically turned to look at the other man.

"Where?"

Raito sat up completely, massaging his nape in order to work out the kinks. "One of the houses."

Ryuuzaki stayed silent. Raito realized that the other would not answer anything, so he decided not to wait. But surprisingly, just as he was putting on his shoes, having turned his back to the other man, he heard Ryuuzaki's voice.

"Feeble."

Raito gritted his teeth a bit, more out of habit than anything else. He turned around slightly.

"What?" he asked, his voice rather bored, not betraying his level of interest.

"Feeble idea."

"Oh." Raito said, but went out of his way to show he did not give a penny what L thought. He'd stayed with Ryuuzaki for so long that he'd learned not to care, for the most part. L might think whatever he want of Raito's desperate measures, but, at the end of the day, he wasn't so much better than Raito himself.

"You'll stay here, right?" Raito asked, having finally finished wearing his shoes. He stood up slowly and turned toward Ryuuzaki "Can I leave my things?" His 'things' consisted of a rather shabby old coat, which he had picked up from a garbage lot at the side of the street earlier that day.

Ryuuzaki didn't answer again, just shook his head lightly to indicate nonchalance. Raito got the message and nodded, starting to walk away.

He didn't want to admit it, of course, how good it felt to have a point of origin – the fact that he'd left someone waiting for him somewhere. Actually, he was subconsciously so eager to return that he didn't spend much time pondering which house to choose.

However, as he selected a relatively satisfactory building and tried to enter it, he was left disappointed. The door would not open. Sighing slightly and not bothering to solve the strange and illogical inner workings of Mu, he decided he'd just try another door.

But he couldn't enter the other door either. In fact, he could enter none of the doors he tried, except one. The problem was that the only door that could open was that of a completely derelict building, run down and in ruins, and definitely without a bathroom.

When he returned to L, he was considerably less agreeable than before.

"Well?" the detective asked, without moving his eyes away from the distance.

"You knew they wouldn't open, didn't you?" Raito asked in a rather resigned voice.

"I thought they might not." Ryuuzaki answered, his tone clouded with somewhat impolite disinterest.

"Ah."

Raito wanted to ask for an explanation, of course, but after a few moments of deliberation he decided not to. And indeed, in a few seconds, L started to elaborate by himself, just as Raito had predicted. If there was one thing that Ryuuzaki would always remain, it was a know-it-all, Raito smugly thought.

"The houses with pinned doors are already occupied." The black-haired creature stated, turning to look at Raito. The chestnut haired man noticed the subtle silver-blue glow in the other's hair and eyes – a product of the dead moonlight. In fact, Ryuuzaki's cheeks looked rather white and soft right now, against the tufts of black hair. And his lips, as he kept them open, appeared rather fuller and fleshier than Raito had remembered. "There are many like you, who ignore the apparitions in the houses in view of some comfort."

"I could never sleep in there." Raito said, walking slowly towards the other and finally sitting down on the other side of the wall, across Ryuuzaki. The detective slowly turned his face to the other and the overhead shadows cast his cheeks and eyes to shade. Raito, who was hiding entirely in the darkness, looked at the other's moonlight-lit hands. They stared at each other for some more time.

"I'm not necessarily talking about sleep." Ryuuzaki's voice, loaded with heavy subtext, clashed intensely with his unperturbed expression.

After a few moments, Raito grinned.

"I'll be damned. Is that your sex face?" when L kept silent for a few moments, the grin slipped away from Raito's face, and he became utterly serious again. "People can't even talk here, Ryuuzaki." He gestured with his hand to accentuate his point "Let alone fuck."

"Who said anything about fornication, Raito-kun? I was implying that, like you, they may wish to use the bathrooms." Ryuuzaki spoke with false innocence his fingers kneading the fabric on his knees "But now that you mention it, they probably do that as well. "

But Raito had had enough of trying to stir L's annoyance. He'd been trying to avoid the central issue all this time, and the issue was that he felt utterly filthy.

"I need a bath quite urgently." He said, leaning his head backwards to lean on the wall more firmly. His body slid downwards, until the inner sides of his knees bumped slightly with Ryuuzaki's curled calves. "I need to walk further, until I find a house I can use. You'll have to come with me."

A few moments passed, during which Raito was certain the other would refuse, just for the sake of being a nuisance. But, to Raito's surprise, Ryuuzaki acquiesced without a scene.

"Very well." He said, nodding, "But do not expect me to enter the house with you."

"Fair enough." Raito said, standing up. Reflexively, not really thinking about what he was doing, he stretched his hand toward L, to pull the detective upward. He hadn't realized the significance of what he was doing until Ryuuzaki paused, staring at his hand.

Raito, unexplainably feeling as though he'd just committed some obscure social gaffe, considered pulling his hand away. But that would accentuate his lack of restraint even more. So he decided to abide to his initial action, unsuccessful though it may be.

But Ryuuzaki stared at his hand a few more moments, then ignored it and stood up by himself. Raito was left there standing with his hand extended, as L walked away toward the streets. Fisting his palm and bringing it to his side, Raito felt some kind of primal anger grow within his gut, threatening to overcome his senses.

The logical part of him claimed that it was completely sensible for L not to trust him, and that it was only to be expected that Ryuuzaki would not consider him as a friend to depend on when circumstances were dire. Raito had killed the man, for God's sake!

But, even so…

Raito gritted his teeth – a habit which was quickly becoming his trademark – and proceeded to follow Ryuuzaki's slow pace.

The street was packed with people, some lying supine on the ground, some sitting quietly on the edges of the street, or on the upside-down staircases, which led to nowhere.

As L was walking, with Raito flanking his right side, he suddenly stopped.

"What's the commotion about?" Raito asked, nodding toward the group of people in front of them, who, despite completely silent, seemed to be moving in jerks – too violently.

Ryuuzaki didn't answer for a few moments, taking a small step forward "A brawl, perhaps? They're not speaking, so it's not a hallucination."

Raito was considering mentioning that Ryuuzaki and he must have presented the same picture a few days ago, when they were fighting in the street yet again. However, that wouldn't have done justice to their valiant fighting techniques. Where L and Raito had been fighting for honour and pride, what they were witnessing now looked more like a mass beating than anything else.

"Is that a…!?" Raito suddenly exclaimed, and his eyes widened. This was because he thought he'd seen, between the bodies of two half-naked, muscled men, the figure of a white clad woman.

And if there was one thing Raito could not tolerate, it was rape.

Raito's first instinct was to dive forward, but he held back. What if he wasn't aware of the whole story? What if he was putting the blame on people who did not deserve it? It wasn't any of his business anyway…was it? He wasn't the right person to try and-

"We'd better see what's going on." A solid voice rang from the left, and Raito was jarred from his trance immediately. He saw Ryuuzaki marching forward, dragging his feet as usual. But the detective did not look quite as casual, or unconcerned as he always did in these cases.

"Wait, Ryuuzaki!" Raito called in a whisper, trying not to be to loud lest he alert the mass of people a few yards away. He walked a few paces and grabbed a fistful of the fabric of L's shirt. It wasn't quite as soft as Raito had remembered, caked as it currently was in dirt, but the chestnut-haired man barely paid any mind to such details at that moment.

"What are you doing?" Raito whispered again, dragging Ryuuzaki, by the edge of his shirt, toward the shadows at the side of the street. Ryuuzaki's face seemed concerned as he turned back toward the brawl, to see what was happening.

"Maybe we should help her." L said, the neutrality in his voice clashing with the actual words.

"What are you talking about?" Raito asked, aware that this was the third ineffective statement he was making in a row "We don't even know what happened with these people! How can we know who is at fault?...And since when do you care?" he asked motioning vaguely toward the direction of the commotion.

"It doesn't take a nuclear physicist, Raito-kun" L said, his voice a rather irritated whisper "The woman's in danger. We should alleviate the pressure before the situation turns any worse."

"What are you…? Have you…?" Raito said with a tone of exasperation in his voice "It's dangerous…we'd better check if-"

But as Raito spoke, Ryuuzaki shook the chestnut-haired man's hands off his shoulders and whirled around, walking with new decisiveness toward the gathered crowd. Not knowing where to place himself, Raito settled for walking after the other, his lungs and liver constricting rather hurtfully in the effort to restrain himself.

"_Ryuuzaki!!_" but the detective ignored him completely.

"Excuse me." L's voice rang loud and clear in the dead silence. The people who were fighting did not pause their intense struggle, however. Raito thought they must be accustomed to noises and voices from hallucinations.

"Excuse me." Ryuuzaki repeated, even louder, but none of the others took notice of him. Then, suddenly, comprehension hit Raito like a brick, and he rushed forward L's side.

"Ryuuzaki…they can't hear you." Raito said, grabbing L's shoulder to draw his attention. L turned to look at him for a few seconds, and the dawn of realization lit in his eyes. Raito repeated "They can't hear you when you talk to them, remember?" Obviously, L had grown so used to communicating successfully with Raito, that he'd conveniently forgotten he was unable to communicate with anyone else.

But, without knowing it, as the two had started talking to each other, their voices started to be heard from the strangers. As such, the people who'd been fighting before now temporarily put a pause to their battle, turning to look at the two men strangely.

"Their not Japanese. Speak English." Ryuuzaki said, having already reverted to English. He had quickly devised a way to be heard to the others by speaking to Raito.

And indeed, when he spoke English, the strangers seemed to focus on him, as though they understood what he was saying.

Raito took a few brief moments to note the situation. There was a group of four or five muscled men, fighting with each other, surrounding a woman wearing a torn white petticoat, who indeed looked like the epitome of victimized femininity.

The fact that Ryuuzaki seemed to have been right gnawed on Raito's gut with exceptional spite.

"What do you want me to say? They don't seem to be in the mood for conversation." Raito asked, speaking in English, and noticed that the men seemed to be listening.

"We came here to tell them to stop what they were doing." L said, directing his words to Raito but looking at the stranger closest to him. No sooner had he finished his sentence, however, than the man – half a head taller and half a man more muscled than L himself – grabbed the detective by the collar of his shirt, raising his upwards.

'_Shit!_ ' Raito eloquently thought, as he saw the rest of the enraged men motioning with hostility toward him. He'd known this was a bad idea…he'd known-

"Go on then, Kira. Tell them what scum they are." L said in a slightly choked voice, and, despite the panic, Raito had time to turn and grant Ryuuzaki a heartfelt glare.

"Don't call me a hypocrite, L, when you were quite happy to leave this kind of people roam free and unpunished!" the only question was why L had so drastically changed his perception of justice.

"None of this matters now!"

Raito puzzled over these quizzical words, feeling as though time had frozen over him, and as though he could hear L's voice echoing the words over and over again.

This was one of the few times during the time the two had known each other, when L's eyes were completely open, leaving nothing concealed. In other words, Raito realized that the other was not trying to achieve anything through saying these words. He was not being antagonistic…which was….strange in itself.

Actually, judging from the way they were uttered…These words held only one meaning…the one that was being said.

Looking at L now, Raito realized that his senses had not cheated him, and he had indeed heard Ryuuzaki sigh slightly at the end of that sentence. So as he took a better look at L's expression, he came to realize there was little true interest there about the words themselves, and about the act of uttering them. In all honesty, Ryuuzaki looked… He spoke this truth so openly, with such an unabashed, direct tone, that…that it was almost as if…

L had nothing to fear.

_Not even Kira._

Startled suddenly out of his reverie, Raito realized what was happening. The shock was unadulterated, like a bucket of ice tipped over his head, as Raito realized the importance – the crucial impact – of what he was seeing. This was Ryuuzaki, true enough…but it was a Ryuuzaki…without fear. That was why L had been so open, so careless about making hints about Raito…

It was the real person, no doubt about that…however, it seemed obvious now, by the way he spoke directly and did not bother to mask his expressions – which had suddenly gained disproportionate variety – or conceal his intentions and opinions. Something…Raito realized with a strange jolt in his heart…something had changed. The man who was standing in front of him had a familiar face…but other than that, Raito did not recognize him.

But it seems their opponents had had enough of being ignored and being distracted from their own fight. Raito saw a punch aimed at his face, and reflexively dodged to the side. After that, the situation got frantic.

The fight became generalized, and Raito found himself simultaneously fighting against two of them horrid creatures. At some point, he thought he saw the sharp, angled sting of Ryuuzaki's kick, but he was then occupied with his own stuggle.

As they fought, he felt a mixture of fear and righteousness. Every time they landed a hit on his body, he felt clear, real pain.

But at some point, as he caught sight of L's face, he saw nothing there except the cold, calculating precision of a man who is…who is…

Not afraid.

Something had happened. Something mysterious enough to strip the ever-present, trademark fear and cowardice away from L's soul. The L that Raito knew would never speak so directly, he would never march so carelessly in a dangerous situation.

He would never risk his own well-being for a belief, or an ideal. But now that they were already dead… Dead enough to be fearless, dead enough to not care about what had happened during his life, dead enough to understand there would be no negative consequences – or positive ones – for any action he would try to take. Because his actions from here on out would never matter…they couldn't even really be considered proper actions. Because he was dead.

Raito understood all this just from a few small sentences, having known and studied Ryuuzaki's conduct for years. And as such he could see, quite clearly in retrospect…that this L, despite being the real person…was not L at all.

And even though his posture may have improved slightly and his bobbing Adam's apple become a bit more pronounced, perhaps the most essential change about L, which was at the route of all the others, was this.

The Trial. It must have been the Trial.

And even though, for Raito, the humungous changes that had been made in his way of thinking during the Trial were mostly subcutaneous, or at least not easily discernible to himself…in L's case, Raito could see the alterations jutting out prominently. It was natural that Raito hadn't noticed the same thing about the other people around him, because he hardly knew any of them. But in L's case, he had lived with Ryuuzaki for years, knew very well the other man's mannerisms and could recognize the unbelievable changes.

It was as though something had broken – some invisible chain which had been holding Ryuuzaki down during his lifetime had finally been released. As though he'd been held in a trap during all his life and now he'd been finally set free. And now, it was the same old L…only not afraid to become daring, because he had nothing to lose: he had already lost his life. What more was there?

Death, Raito decided, had done L some good.

It seemed that now, without the effervescent, eternal fear which had blocked his every opinion and decision during life, L had reached…an entirely new level of capacity.

Raito groaned as he felt someone's fist collide with his jaw. The pain was a sharp stab and he limped backwards falling to the ground, finally beaten to a bloody pulp. From the corner of his eye, as he slipped in and out of consciousness, he saw that the woman who'd been shaking on the ground before was not there anymore. She'd probably taken the time her captors were distracted to flee the scene.

Then, Raito heard a heavy noise of something dropping next to him, and the next thing he knew, his vision was full of Ryuuzaki's image.

The black hair had turned red from the dirt. The white soft skin of the face was covered with blood, and one of his eyes was completely blue, swollen and ugly – and finally shut instead of open and inquiring. Perhaps beating L was the only way to stop those eyes from remaining open and curious.

Raito suspected that he must make a similar picture.

As L fell down next to him, they looked at each other, observing each other's pathetic state, with what little strength they had left. Then, they heard the angry footsteps of their opponents, as they ran away. With his ear resting on the ground, Raito could hear clearly the sounds of the stampede.

He kept looking at L. Had his cheeks not hurt so much, he might have grinned. But as he saw the slight crease around L's remaining healthy eye, he thought Ryuuzaki might have taken the hint.

In retrospect, he should have known all along that Ryuuzaki's mind was much too advanced to become derelict in these narrow corridors of hate, malice and retribution. He felt slightly…sympathetic to it. Because L, like Raito himself, despite having human weaknesses in his arrogance and pride, still held something about him which, at least in Raito's understanding, made him more likely to…connect to the level in which Raito's mind was operating.

In this moment in time, it felt as though something strange happened: as though they hadn't been enemies all along, as though circumstances hadn't made it so that Raito would become L's killer. Now, if Raito could blink slowly and concentrate very hard, the vague colouring of L's shirt could become something different. Seeing L's vague outline now, and sensing that light, familiar aura, he could almost feel the obscure metallic touch of a handcuff weighing his left hand down. At this moment, Raito thought that, it felt as though this person was not L, the great adversary. But just Ryuuzaki, the awkward, antisocial idiot whose quirks Raito had been forced to endure for time on end.

So he kept the silence surrounding them, preserved it as something sacred. And then he nodded slowly, a sign of acceptance, perhaps. His cheek scraped against the ground beneath them as he moved his head. If L had managed to learn something during his Trial – something about fear and motivation, obviously – then Raito had damn well learnt something as well.

Namely, the rather liberating ability to accept the existence of other people.

-

The next morning, a few pedestrians helped them walk to the side of the road, where they sat, resting, for hours on end.

"I need that bath." Raito muttered at some point, as he realized he couldn't even move his facial muscles properly, because of the dried blood on his cheeks.

Ryuuzaki didn't speak for a while. Then, finally, a completely defiled, unrecognizably deep voice came, which indicated complete and utter exhaustion. "Yes." The detective simply said.

Raito, feeling he should promote this idea somehow, tried to elaborate.

"Maybe we can just…go to one of the nearby houses. They shouldn't be occupied now…" he said, having seen various people exit some houses earlier that day.

Ryuuzaki stayed silent for a few more moments. Raito brought his palm to his own swollen eye, patting it experimentally in order to see exactly how deformed it was. He was lucky not to have broken any bones, he thought grudgingly, cursing Ryuuzaki's sudden decision to be the hero of the day. He failed, of course, to question himself about why he'd followed L's lead.

However, even though he superficially scorned L's newfound courage, secretly, he felt rather amazed by it. How could a man change so much…had he changed so much himself, in the eyes of others?

He would never know.

Now that he'd almost forgotten who they were, and had become so whole-heartedly focused on the fact that he'd been reunited with something he hadn't remembered forgetting, the awkwardness had almost begun to fade. And this could almost manage to become a nondescript conversation….like the one Raito had had with Nayuko – or whatever her name was – the other day…

Perhaps he and L would finally manage to just talk, and, at some point, maybe Raito would even have the chance to discreetly make L understand why he had done the things he'd done, and the reasoning behind Kira, and the fact that he'd improved this reasoning. Raito didn't like to think, of course, that he was trying to justify himself to L, since L hadn't asked for a justification.

But at least, even if none of this happened, Raito could finally have a decent conversation with someone of his own mental caliber. And, now that he reconsidered the whole idea of talking to L, he found that he might as well render to L the entire story of how Near and Mello had replaced his job as detectives. Unwilling to admit it to himself, perhaps Raito was looking forward to the prospect of having someone – even if that person was L – listen to him eagerly.

Perhaps it was that small element that suddenly made Raito feel a bit more secure than before and, perhaps, even a bit excited about the day's prospects.

However, as always, L would not let him be content and calm.

"You don't like the water outside, do you?" L's voice rung again, slightly better than last time, since the detective's vocal chords had probably become a bit reaccustomed to speaking. Raito remembered the first few days he'd stayed with L, and that he'd been troubled with his oral syntax at first, since, during his long months of isolation and private thinking, he had quite literally gotten unused to verbally expressing himself.

"Call me unconventional, but no." a slightly irritated Raito said, not expecting a real answer to that. But, as always, L surprised him.

"For me it's mousetraps."

The chestnut haired man stiffened instantaneously.

A few beats of silence went by. Raito thought he'd heard incorrectly, not really wanting to acknowledge what he thought he'd heard.

"What?" he asked rather rudely, not keen on the idea of thinking about this, but unable to stop now that he'd started.

"Mousetraps. The water is."

Raito did not speak again. His knuckles had turned white from fisting his hand so hard on the edge of the pavement.

Time passed. The silence once more became oppressive, to the extent that Raito almost regretted all his former thoughts about the other. If L was expecting Raito to offer a similar confession, then he would be sorely disappointed, the Japanese man thought, trying to justify himself to himself, as always.

After all, he thought, he had never provoked L to reveal this secret.

Although it certainly was a helpful source of comfort, for Raito, to know that…at least on this aspect, he wasn't the only one.

But…mousetraps?

In his nervousness, he'd forgotten to analyze the nature of what L had said, and was only just now realizing it. Mousetraps? And yet, Ryuuzaki had been washing himself with it…? How was that…possible? Raito considered the possibility of shedding a bucket of cockroaches on his head and almost flinched openly.

Seriously…_mousetraps?_ That sounded a bit silly, didn't it? Not that female-headed cockroaches were any better, mind you, Raito pondered with self-depreciation.

He was sorely tempted to ask L for specifications, of course, but on the other hand he didn't want to display the level of his curiosity. So he simply contented himself to wonder in private.

As such, more time passed. When the time came to go in search for food, the two of them looked rather comical, limping in the middle of the street, breathing heavily, trying to reach that God-forsaken fruit on the trees' branches. In the end, a kindly stranger, who had no doubt noticed their predicament, had been gentle enough to cut a few for them.

And this was how, a few hours later, with their bellies as full as they could get and their legs marginally more stable than before, they treaded toward the side of the street. Even though Raito need to find a house to sleep, bathe and recuperate in, and even though he was cursing Ryuuzaki for forcing him to undergo this trouble, he simply bore with it.

He was probably still preoccupied with trying to understand the puzzle of these mousetraps, which L had mentioned before.

They had done no further walking that day, and as such, they found themselves in the same resting place that they had enjoyed the night before. Ryuuzaki found his usual place, leaning against the wall and curling his knees to his chest, and Raito duly followed, seating himself directly opposite the other, with his thighs slightly bent and open.

They looked at each other for a while, in the verge of falling asleep.

Then, just as Raito was about to open his mouth, his curiosity finally having gotten the better of him, they heard a small sound from the distance. Temporarily distracted, they both sat up, looking toward the direction of the noise.

As they were looking at a pile of rusted metal nearby, they saw a large, complex-looking vehicle materialize and drop over the others.

"New arrival." Ryuuzaki said, studying the contraption as best as he could, in this darkness. Raito watched the detective for a few moments, seeing L's pronounced interest in the advanced technology, which reminded him of his own.

"Which power source do you think they're using?" he asked, referring to the strangely shaped vehicle and its unknown engine. "Solar or hydraulic?"

L considered for a few moments "Possibly both at the same time, only much better than they did in our time…maybe even electric, as in magnets." He looked at the vehicle again "I've seen different kinds."

"Both? But water resources are limited as well…" Raito said in a pondering voice "Unless they've found ways to utilize seawater, or the melting ice from the poles."

"Or unless they've colonized other planets." Ryuuzaki offered, his voice more thoughtful and less a drawl.

A few moments of silence went by. Then, finally, Raito answered.

"You really think it's been so long?" he asked, trusting L to understand what he was referring to without specification.

"It's definitely been longer than it feels to us." The detective concluded, nodding slightly toward the trashed machines "The alloys used for these machines are unrecognizable. I doubt they were discovered during my time, or else I would have studied them, surely"

"Really?" Raito asked, his tone rather conversational "I haven't had the chance to approach these metals so as to study them yet, lest I be presented with the full view of someone's death."

"Yes indeed…that is frustrating, isn't it?" Ryuuzaki nodded, and it took a moment for Raito to realize what was happening, and that he was having an unperturbed, voluntary conversation…with his greatest enemy.

In fact, this sudden realization was so utterly perturbing, that he decided to end it right here. He did not want this kind of doubt in his mind right now. He was exhausted, he was in pain, and he was confused, both about Ryuuzaki and about himself.

As such, he didn't speak again and it soon became clear that the discussion had ended. Even though he still had things he wanted to discuss…

The last thing his troubled eyes saw, before they closed peacefully for the night, was Ryuuzaki's face, turned upward, toward the sky.

-

The next morning, they went about their routine rather awkwardly. It felt as though something in the atmosphere had changed last night, during those short five non-hostile sentences they'd shared with each other.

"''Morning" Raito muttered, not looking at L's direction, per se. He patted at his hurt eye, realizing that it was slightly flatter than yesterday and that, if he tried, he could open in just barely and see through it. Ryuuzaki's own bruises had reverted from fiery reddish purple to the distinctive blue-green.

"Good morning, Yagami-kun"

Raito raised his head slowly, noticing that L had called him by his surname. This, in turn, made him realize that, all this time, L had been calling him by his first name…which, in retrospect was strangely genial, considering that Raito was the man who'd ended up killing L…And why was L calling him by his surname now, all of a sudden? Was he angry, or-?

"Where are you going?" Raito asked, his voice and expression a testament of his underlying anxiety, as he watched Ryuuzaki start putting on his shoes.

"…Just to get some water." L said, and Raito was tempted to ask whether the detective was annoyed with him about something, but realized he'd sound like a young child if he gave into his insecurities. He therefore restrained himself as best as he could, only to realize belatedly what L had told him.

"But…mousetraps…?" he said, probably unaware of how stupid he sounded. L didn't seem to blame him, however, as he turned to the other man with hollow black eyes.

"If you bear with it, it cleans you." He stated simply, and started to walk away. But Raito, who was feeling rather rejuvenated despite his injuries after a whole day of continuous rest, shot up and started following Ryuuzaki quickly.

"How do you mean?" he asked, and noticed that L's shoulders stiffened lightly, as he realized that Raito was coming with him. Only then did Raito realize that it was the first time he was doing this – following Ryuuzaki to the well in the morning. He wondered if he should perhaps leave L alone, but decided to abide to his initial actions, now that he had started them.

"Even though it doesn't look it, it has the consistency of water." L answered, still starting forward, away from Raito. He was carried the yellow bucket on his left hand, and Raito realized, rather curiously that Ryuuzaki was tapping his fingers on the handle of the plastic thing. Could it be a sign of…nervousness?

"Oh" Raito answered, rather stumped by L's rather withdrawn conduct this morning, especially compared to the talkativeness of last night. And here Raito had though that if-

'_If' what? _Raito cursed himself as they reached the well, and L started tying the bucket to a rope, in order to pull up some water.

After that, they both remained silent, as L dumped the container in the mouth of the well, waited for it to fill, and then started pulling it up. Raito regretted coming along.

"I'll just go get the coat." He said to no one in particular and kicked off the sides of the well.

"Yes." L started saying. "I'll come when I'm done."

As chance would have it, however, he'd just roughly pulled the bucket – which was now filled to the brim with water – from the well. But just as he'd pulled it, Raito had been passing behind him.

"Watch ou-!" Raito started saying, and the next thing he knew, he heard a splashing sound, and something came in contact with his body. Some water from the bucket had just hit him.

For a few moments, he thought he felt the disgusting touch of a hundred short insect feet running over his skin. He squeezed his eyes closed, writhing wildly and shaking his body, in the effort to shake off the horrible cockroaches.

He shuddered, the goosebumps running over his skin over and over. But suddenly, he felt something solid grab his shoulder and shake him. And then, as though brought back to the world, his sense of hearing returned.

"-aito-kun! Raito-kun!"

Raito opened his eyes, meeting L's strained face. Then, coming back to his senses from the shock, the chestnut haired man looked downwards at his torso, where he expected to meet the sight of a dozen cockroaches fighting each other for a piece of him.

But the only thing he saw was water.

He raised his eyes again, staring straight into L's black orbs.

"Are you-?" Ryuuzaki started saying, but Raito spoke before him.

"Do that again!" Raito ordered suddenly, his voice a harsh bark. L was obviously taken aback, since he didn't immediately understand what Raito was asking.

"What-?" L, with the half-full bucket still in his hands, started asking for specifications, but Raito had no time for this. Without thinking about it, he grabbed Ryuuzaki's wrists, and forced them forward and upward.

Raito looked upwards, as a spiral of water, as clear and fresh as rain, splashed against his face. Unable to stop his face from turning into an expression of unadulterated ecstasy, he held L's wrists in place, forcing the detective to hold the bucket over his head, until his chestnut hair had turned into the colour of acorns from the wetness.

Finally, when it was over, and there was no more water, Raito let Ryuuzaki's hands go, and L lowered them, staring at the other man's look of utter bliss.

Then, as the impact of the realization started to fade away, Raito realized the implications of what he had just done. L was looking at him now, with a gaze combined with confusion and surprise.

"Raito-kun," the detective started, his knuckles turning white around the edges of the bucket he was holding "You mean that-"

Without a word, Raito brought one of his hands, still dripping from the water, and flicked just in front of L's face, causing water droplets to pop into the detective's face. And indeed, just as Raito had thought, instead of flinching, or wincing from seeing imaginary 'mousetraps', L's eyes widened.

Then, he grabbed Raito's hand, looking at it as a starving man would have looked at a chicken fillet, and buried his nose in it.

Gasping reflexively from the unexpected contact, Raito pulled his hand away. L looked up immediately, seemingly coming back to reality.

Then, they looked at each other, both their jaws half-open, and their eyes unblinking.

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**a/n: ****Hope you enjoyed it, and are anxious for the continuation! Please remember to leave some feedback!! Sorry for the lack of long a/n in the end, but I'm just SOOOO wasted!!  
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**Ezan**


	14. Mugen no Mugon

**Ok, guess I don't need to repeat myself yet again, but I will anyway: THANK YOU so much for reviewing and helping me out! I honestly wish I could answer all your reviews! If I don't, I don't do it out of snobbishness, but because I am using that time to write the story that you reviewed!**

**I promise that once the story is finished, I shall take the time to answer all your reviews, and thank you for having cared enough to help me out! Thank you!!**

**Also, please mind any grammatical errors/ repetitions that you'll surely see in this chapter. You must be sick of hearing this already, but I'm just saying it to keep my conscience clear!**

**I hope you enjoy this extra-long chappie! If you detect any OOC anywhere, please inform me, and I shall revise my approach to the story! Thank you for your help!**

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They were standing side by side, staring upwards at the imposing dark structure. At times like these, Raito felt every bit the tourist in a foreign country. Despite the silence and bizarreness of his surroundings, nothing could dull the sheer grandiose aura that accompanied some of the most prominent buildings of Mu.

Like this one.

It was amazing to think that a construction like this had been wrecked to ruins in the living world, when here it was just as imposing, huge and subtly terrifying as it must have been in the mind of the architect who conjured it.

Gigantic and inapproachable, the Cathedral stretched in front of them, the vast flat surfaces of its walls contrasting sharply with the blade-sharp edges of its pillars. It was its unusual decorative details that served as the telltale sign of its Gothic style.

And it truly was every bit the Gothic temple. The most striking thing about it was the dark graphite colour of its marble surfaces, which when combined with its massive height, created the illusion of omen. Raito believed that this building must have been destroyed a long time ago in the real world, since it simply looked too classic and too elaborate for something the New Age would have had the capacity to conserve.

When surrounded by all these Victorian houses in the nearby streets, this cathedral did not look as misplaced as one may have expected. Raito noticed that there were blurry orange lights coming from inside the black windows. But if he stared too long at the occult illumination, he thought he could hear the sounds of pelting rain, so he avoided doing so.

It was a dreary evening in Mu, the sun hiding behind endless layers of dark grey clouds, which stubbornly refused to erupt in rain. Ryuuzaki was, as always, at Raito's left. It seems that even when not wearing the handcuffs, they liked to abide to the arrangement of placement that they'd become so accustomed to during their lives. Raito let his eyes linger on the back of L's black head for a moment, a bit absently, before turning back to stare at the church, challenging himself to look as far upwards as he could.

Finally, after nearly ten minutes of having stood here, combating his own curiosity, he gave in and asked the question.

"Do you know this building?"

Ryuuzaki kept silent for nearly an entire minute. He didn't turn around or give any indication of having heard what Raito had just said, so Raito closed his hanging jaw and decided to ignore L in return. He wasn't in the mood for Ryuuzaki's drawn out silences, he thought in annoyance. But just as he was trying to work out what the Latin inscription on top of the cathedral's main entrance was referring to, L spoke.

"Not as such." Ryuuzaki answered, and Raito didn't bother saying anything about the quizzical nature of that statement, scanning the windows of the church and trying to memorize the complex architecture of it. He knew that L would soon elaborate on what he'd just said, anyway.

And indeed, a few moments later: "But I reckon I have seen it before."

Raito's eyes turned to fix on the back of L's head. L turned around, showing his profile to the other man.

"Isn't it the original St. Paul's Cathedral?"

Raito squeezed the limitless information databases in his brain. St. Paul's…what did that remind him of…? And since L said that this was the original one, then could there possibly be another…? Raito could vaguely remember that it was associated with Royalty of some sort, so…

"You mean the massive church in London?" Raito finally asked, remembering the short trip Misa had forced him to go on, a few years after L's death.

L turned around, a small tilt in his eyebrows and a swell of humour in his voice "There are many massive churches in London, Yagami-kun, the Abbey being the principal one."

"Don't patronize me." Raito answered, but there was no real bite, or even annoyance in his voice. It was just a bored drawl. "You know which one I'm talking about….where all the Jubilees take place."

"I'm surprised, Kira." L commented lightly, turning back away from the other man, just in time to miss the way Raito gritted his teeth at the appellation "Most non-British people know it because of Princess Diana's wedding ceremony." Raito thought he detected a sly undertone of scorn in the detective's voice, although he couldn't really understand whether it was the affixation with the People's Princess or the public's general lack of knowledge that Ryuuzaki did not appreciate.

"I'm not like most non-British people. L." Raito's tone was clipped, in response to the name Ryuuzaki had used. The detective didn't seem to mind, however, as he trod on to continue the history lesson.

"This was the original St. Paul's Cathedral, built from scratch in medieval times. Burnt down and completely destroyed during the fire of London, only to be rebuilt into a slightly smaller, more modern counterpart."

Raito noticed that, judging by his tone, L probably didn't much like the modern counterpart. He chose to keep these thoughts to himself, however, opting to stare at the building a bit more carefully, now that he knew that it had been wiped off the face of the earth for centuries.

"There's a maquette representation of this building in the crypt of the modern St. Paul's, which is how I recognized it. I had visited the cathedral on several occasions, interested as I was in-"

"Humour me, Ryuuzaki." Raito started, in a mock disbelieving voice "Are you going to talk to me about God, now?"

"I could, if you want to." L said, his voice deadly serious, to the extent that Raito thought of it as a joke. The chestnut haired man had realized, eventually, that these ill-aimed sarcastic attempts constituted L's idea of being funny. "I can recite parts of the Holy Scriptures by heart. Oh, but I can't say the same about sutras and Buddist teachings. I don't know them quite so well..."

"_You?_ Organized religion?" Raito smirked privately turning away from Ryuuzaki as they walked "Hell would sooner freeze over." He just couldn't see L associated with this kind of thing in any way.

Then again, a small voice chipped in Raito's mind, it would be typical of L to be telling the truth, knowing that Raito would never believe him.

Ryuuzaki gave a smirk of his own, which was completely lost on Raito, who was busy looking elsewhere "I suppose If it did," The detective said quietly, a tint of something like thoughtfulness lacing his tone "we'd be the first to know."

Raito did not respond, although his spirits decidedly dampened after considering the truth in that statement. Instead, he decided to ask something that would distract him from thinking about it at all.

"Is the marble really dark, or is this grey colour an effect of the fire of London?" The Japanese man wondered aloud, realizing he had spoken to L only after having finished the sentence. "I mean-" he thought he should clarify, but L seemed to have caught the gist of the question.

"I believe the marble was dark all along. At the time it was built…"

And this was how today's educational visit begun. The chestnut haired man was sorely tempted to say that L sounded ecstatic as he talked about it, but, seeing as he was rather interested in this sort of thing himself, he didn't bother with making small talk and just contented himself with absorbing the freely offered information.

At times like these, Raito couldn't wait until they'd leave the Anglo-Saxon and enter the Japanese section of Mu, where he'd have the chance to overwhelm L with his limitless knowledge of Japanese feudal history, much like L was doing now with Europeans. But even though he couldn't wait to flaunt his own knowledge, and prove he knew an equal amount of information as L – if not more – he was still intrigued by learning about these things about foreigners, which he had never thought – or cared – to think about when he was still alive.

But after almost an hour of talking about it, and watching L's eyes dart to the corner's of the dark building almost wistfully, Raito thought that there might be some other reason – beyond scholar interest – which was making Ryuuzaki so excited about this whole thing.

They'd been walking around the building to observe it from different angles for some time now. If Raito didn't know any better, he'd say that the detective was looking at the building as though it were a piece of candy. Finally, against his better judgment, if only to observe the other man's reaction, he decided to ask:

"…you want to go inside?"

But when Raito suggested they enter it, L, who'd been walking silently a few feet forward, turned around suddenly, as though electrocuted.

"…" He didn't say anything, just looked at Raito with that persistent thoughtful stare. Then, his black eyes started darting around back and forth, like they did whenever he was thinking intensely. Raito wondered if, perhaps, L was actually considering it, despite never willing to enter buildings in Mu.

But, finally, Ryuuzaki spoke again after a few minutes.

"Let's…leave it for now. We can't afford to lose time. Each moment we waste not searching for our respective partners can have a great impact…" Ah, so the cold, calculating detective was back. Whenever L spoke like that, he reminded Raito extremely of the person he'd learned to identify as Ryuuzaki during his life: the person who calculated each and every situation – except perhaps when it came to confectionaries – with emotionless precision.

But Raito knew better than to believe this.

There must be some reason why Ryuuzaki was making these excuses in order not to enter the church, when he so obviously wanted to visit it. But it couldn't be fear, since Raito had realized early on that it was no longer fear that drove L's actions. Of course it was unpleasant to enter the buildings, but, if he really wanted to, L would probably ignore the danger and do it. There was probably some other reason, some explanation as to why L avoided entering any of these buildings together with Raito…Perhaps he didn't want to stay close to Raito for too long…? Perhaps he really did consider it a waste of time, or a procrastination of their mission?

Perhaps, like Raito himself, L didn't want to be with the other when the apparitions would start appearing, for fear that he might lose face.

"Fair enough." The chestnut haired man opted to answer, pulling his white pinstripe shirt over his cotton black t-shirt. He'd gotten these clothes – including his beige trousers – from one of the houses, which he'd visited the day before yesterday. He'd asked L if he wanted to be brought any new clothes, but, predictably, the detective had refused. He said he preferred washing and rewashing the clothes he was usually wearing than finding new ones here and there. Raito did not agree with this strategy, seeing as he considered it the proverbial signpost of a tousled, filthy slob.

However, strangely, as he looked at the back of L's trousers, he noticed that they didn't look even half as dirty, or even disgusting, as he'd expected. They were less than pristinely clean, of course…and the edges were half torn as L walked…but, strangely, Raito did not find this as irritating or repulsive as he once had. In fact, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he felt rather envious of L's apparent ability to not care at all about his appearance. How did he do it? How could he just say: 'to hell with it' and content himself with dressing like that? This was something that Raito simply couldn't – did not have the capacity – to do!

"It's getting quite dark." Raito simply said, and that was all L needed to hear.

The weeks they'd stayed together, strangely, seemed to be much shorter and pass much more quickly than when Raito had walked alone, with only the shadows of strangers for company. During this time, they seemed to have developed something of a code. They didn't need to talk much – just a few words would suffice, and they'd understand each other. Except for the times they were seeing buildings or watching hallucinations – like today – they didn't really talk much. Which was rather strange, Raito thought, considering that talking and communicating was supposed to be what human comradeship in Mu was all about, as opposed to the obligatory silence of walking alone…right?

'_But we're not comrades.'_ Raito reminded himself for the umpteenth time, as he relied on L to find a comfortable dark place for them to spend the night. He'd noticed, with a bit of trepidation, that he'd started to think of L more and more as a comrade as the days went by. Which was not good, seeing as, one day, surely, L would find Watari and Raito would inevitably be left alone once again._ 'Besides, this is Ryuuzaki we're talking about. Ryuuzaki. Remember what an ostentatious moron he is, how he made you waste the best years of your life being chased by cameras, how-'_

And yet, the more Raito tried to force himself to remember all of it, the more he came to forget why any of it mattered, any more. The duel was already over, he thought. Now it was time for a bow, not a rematch.

This situation was strange, however. It wasn't exactly that Raito was trying, aspiring or even wishing to gain a friend in Ryuuzaki. He supposed it was just the natural predisposition which came with walking with a person every day for the last month. The same had happened to them when they'd be tied to each other during life, at that sort time during which – that very short time – Raito had felt somehow…reluctant…about killing L.

Then again, there was this constant nibble in Raito's brain, the objective and logical reminder that this was L, and that Raito simply didn't like the kind of person L was, not because they'd been rivals in life, but simply because Raito had never liked unkempt, candy-obsessed, arrogant, cowardly, immoral, hypocritical and blind fools who couldn't even stand properly.

The only contradiction in that statement was that L didn't seem to be much of any of those things anymore. Or if he still was, then perhaps it was Raito who'd stopped being annoyed by all these things, at some point.

L found a place, behind what looked like a decrepit baker shop. They walked around the small, old-fashioned building, squeezing through the crowd in order to fit through the narrow alleyway. Raito felt the touch of others' clothing against his own, and tried to keep himself from flinching. Oh how it aggravated him, being forced to collide with people on such a regular basis, being obliged to rub against their bodies, hear the sound of their breathing.

And infuriatingly enough, Ryuuzaki, who was supposed to be the introverted out of the both of them, didn't seem all that phased about this constant situation, in the same way that he had never seemed shy or reluctant to talk about the most perverted or immoral of crimes. The detective seemed a bit disgruntled at best, but not even half as annoyed as Raito. In fact, now that Raito thought about it, L had proved to be quite the contrary from what anyone would expect.

When a person who had never met L first saw the detective, they'd probably think: 'He's one of those quiet, shy, intelligent types. He looks like a little child, scared and alone, folded in two. He probably doesn't like being around people.'

But strangely, only half of that impression was true. L quizzical silence was not an indication of coy shyness or poor social skills, as people often thought. It was a camouflage for suspicion. In fact, Raito knew that, if L ever wanted to be social, he had rather good elements at his disposal, like his intelligence and ready wit.

Secondly, Ryuuzaki's usual stance, with his knees drawn to his chest, was not proof of loneliness and submission, but mistrustfulness and calculation. And finally, the reason why L didn't like being around people was nothing as romantic as being inhibited, and reserved: it had been the fear of being discovered that had always made him stay away from public places. And as for his awkwardness…well Raito supposed that there could be some truth in the supposition that L might have always been a bit dysfunctional when it came to proper interpersonal relations.

"I wonder." Raito suddenly said aloud, and clamped his mouth shut when he realized that, for the second time in the same evening, he'd spoken his thoughts aloud without realizing it. He'd being doing that more and more often lately, something which worried him.

L, who'd just turned around the corner behind the building, walked backward slowly to stare at the other. And Raito, after staring back at the crow haired man for a few minutes, shook his head a bit, as though to indicate that nothing was wrong.

Ryuuzaki must have been tired, since he apparently couldn't even be bothered with investigating the 'suspect's' strange behaviour. Raito had also noticed over the last month, with slight relief, that L had stopped being overly suspicious or observant of Raito's every move. The Japanese man supposed that it had to do with the detective's newfound lack of fear. Part of Raito – the part that had been Kira – was insulted. But overall, Raito supposed, he felt rather…glad.

L, predictably, proceeded to find a comfortable looking, nest-shaped space in the corner between the small baker shop building and a wooden fence. He bent his knees, sat still for a few moments, and then fell backwards to recline there silently. He set his forearm over his eyes, as though dismissing the other.

With this motion, Raito remembered that it was his turn to run the drills today. So, without making a fuss about being tired, even though he certainly was as exhausted as the other, he picked up the bucket from where Ryuuzaki had left it.

He walked a few paces forward, coming to tower directly above the other's supine form. Ryuuzaki pulled his arm away from his eyes to look at Raito.

"Will you stay here?" Raito asked.

Every night, he would ask that same question, refusing to wonder why he felt like asking it. Even so, L didn't seem to mind, giving the same answer, every night. He nodded curtly – as much as he could nod, given his position.

Raito wondered what would happen the night after they found Watari. What would it feel like, he wondered, not having anyone to ask if they'll 'stay here'? He didn't know why he kept thinking about it, about the way Watari would always answer questions on L's behalf, as though he knew what the detective was thinking. Perhaps worse than that, thought, was the fact that L would never stop the old man. That impenetrable L, who would never tolerate anyone…he would always let Watari do his bidding…

If they found Watari, Ryuuzaki would definitely follow the old geezer.

Suddenly, a pang of something shot through Raito's chest.

"Then I'll just leave these." Raito said rather roughly, dumping the two coats next to L's torso, one above the other. L made no responsive movement, so Raito turned around, walking away, his heart thumping in his chest.

He stopped slightly, at some point, turning back to look at L's knees, which were folded upwards as the detective lay, supine, on the ground. Through his unexplainable, sudden anger, Raito watched L's long, knobby fingers tapping on the ground, and was suddenly overcome by some kind of…some kind of…of…

"Be careful…"

But just as he said it, Raito realized what it sounded like, and noisily shut his mouth.

He noticed that, as he said the dreaded words, the long pale fingers stopped tapping immediately. Ryuuzaki's legs shuffled, as though the other was preparing to sit up and look at Raito. The chestnut haired man turned away immediately, presenting his back to the other. He gritted his teeth, and didn't realize why he felt so angry and anxious at the same time. He didn't even realize his heart was hammering in his chest.

His palm was sweaty as he gripped the plastic handle of the bucket.

"…not to fall asleep and get robbed, because we need the coats." He added, and there was suddenly this huge knot in his throat. Before the alien weakness in his knees intensified, or even before L would get the chance to say anything in return, he walked away.

After a few moments, he heard a distant drawl float from the distance behind him.

"Likewise."

His heartbeat became harder yet, as he realized that he couldn't understand what L was agreeing to. He thought that he felt so unsettled because this situation reminded him of when they were both alive, and Ryuuzaki would interrogate him.

In fact, to be perfectly honest, he didn't want to think about why he was suddenly feeling so tense.

So he did himself a favour and stopped thinking about anything, except the bucket of water he was supposed to fill.

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After all, just because they were dead men did not mean they would have to behave like _cave_ men. This is what Raito kept telling himself, trying to remind himself the important reasons why he let himself undergo this humiliation every day.

There was silence for a few seconds, as L pulled the water upwards from the well, the bucket completely full once more. Raito turned to watch over his shoulder, briefly catching Ryuuzaki's eyes as the detective moved towards him, with the bucket suspended in his hands.

Raito smoothed his wet dark tresses away from his face, preparing for the next heavenly splash of clear liquid against his head.

They had made the discovery a few weeks ago: it had been that fatal and completely confusing morning, that moment of complete exasperation, which had been the precursor of all this.

Raito let out a drawn-out sigh as L tipped the bucket over his head, wetting his head slightly. Then, the detective quietly brought the water above Raito's shoulders, emptying it and drenching Raito's body from head to toe.

They had realized unexpectedly, that morning, that Mu was even more sadistic than they had first believed it to be. Apparently, whenever a person in Mu tried to touch the water, they would be ambushed by some form of…of…hallucination, or monster, which would not allow them to enjoy the water quietly. However, when another person handled the water, then everything was all right, and there were no hallucinations.

In Raito's case, he'd been suffering from the hellish cockroaches all along. Whenever he'd tried to use or drink water here, he'd been assaulted by visions of hostile insects when his skin would come in close proximity with the water. But if Ryuuzaki – or probably any other person – was the one to shed the water on Raito's body, then the water did not transform into anything, and Raito could enjoy it blissfully.

The same thing stood for L himself, apparently, who'd been seeing mousetraps every time he'd tried using the water here. But when Raito was the one to splash water on Ryuuzaki's body, L would obviously enjoy the benefits of the natural, mousetrap–free liquid of life.

Raito didn't much like the connotations of this situation, not fond of being dependent on other people for anything, much less something as vital and biologically necessary as this. It annoyed him how everything in this world was connected to his relations with other people, since this was the only sector of his life where he'd never overwhelmingly succeeded, unlike in intelligence and decisiveness.

As he sat there, on the large rock, with nothing but a scant blue piece of fabric covering his private parts, he trembled a bit. The morning air was rather chilly, and combined with the freezing water, the surface of his skin was suffering. Ryuuzaki walked back to the well, to get more water. Raito looked downwards, studying his toenails. Cold, clear water droplets fell from his nose to the damp ground. There was nothing that could be done about the temperature of the water…but it was a fact that cold water was better than none at all, Raito begrudgingly supposed.

He heard the ropes rattling and turned to watch L, as the detective pulled the bucket upwards with startling strength and force.

He didn't think that this situation had anything to do with Ryuuzaki in particular. Now that Raito noticed it, he realized that, whenever he saw other people in Mu handling water, the composition of the water looked perfectly normal. However, as Ryuuzaki had proved, each person saw something unpleasant in the water, and could not enjoy it by himself. They all needed someone else to help them. What Raito could not understand is how he'd missed this before.

Even now, three women came toward the well that L was, waiting to use the water after the detective was finished. How could Raito have missed this before? Most people here in Mu seemed to know of this crucial secret!

Had he truly been lost in his own world for so long so as not to notice?…Or perhaps, he had noticed it but opted not to accept it, having thought that he'd never find another person willing to help him deal with this problem, at least until he could find Misa and get away from this sad place.

L took the newly filled bucket, handing the rope to one of the women who had queued up behind him. She got to work immediately, tying up her own water container and lowering it in the well. At times, living with this needlessly primitive equipment, Raito felt as though he was back to medieval times.

Then he noticed that one of the women – she seemed to be the youngest, not more than fifteen years of age – was staring at him with a look of bashful wonder. He internally groaned as he realized that there were dark red blotches on her cheeks, and that she seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to pull her eyes away from him. Judging by the irrepressible awe in her expression, she probably hadn't seen an adult man naked – except, perhaps, her father – in her entire life.

Soon enough, it wasn't just her. As they were waiting, all three of them had turned around slightly, trying to hide their surreptitious gazes. Raito unconsciously pressed his thighs together.

Oh fantastic. It was bad enough that he'd had to combat his fear of stripping to his birthday suit with Ryuuzaki present. As if he didn't feel like an exhibitionist already, now he had to deal with the prying, inexperienced eyes of a teenage girl, which lingered on his scantily covered crotch a bit too long for com-

Luckily, at that moment Ryuuzaki appeared, his body hovering in front of Raito and obstructing the woman's view. Raito was introduced to the genuinely new experience of being pleased to see the unnecessary slackness of Ryuuzaki's clothes. In order not to let L realize what had been happening before he appeared – although Raito was sure the detective already knew – the chestnut haired man tried to seem completely disinterested.

And as if that wasn't enough, Raito had caught the eyes of more than a few men, who'd come to the well to get some water. It was impossible to find privacy anywhere in Mu, especially in the wee hours of the morning, when everyone was getting ready. And even though none of them had paid him any mind, the mere remembrance of…of the last time he'd been naked with a man…and…

He felt a tremble shoot through his spine, and realized he wanted to be done with this, quickly.

L moved as though to dump the water on Raito's chest, but Raito batted his hands away, indicating he wanted L to wash his back. When his hand came in contact with L's digits, however, he felt a slight chill up his spine.

He didn't like being naked in front of this person. It felt horrible – it was like –

The wet man bent his head forward and pointed backwards with his hand. Ryuuzaki, after days of doing this, caught the drift and moved behind Raito. He shed the water on the chestnut haired man's shoulder blades, careful not to lay even a single finger on Raito's skin. Raito rubbed his back with his own hands as best as he could, cleaning himself while stubbornly looking at the ground.

Until finally, when there was no more water, the man was left there, shivering slightly, shaking his head and refusing to think of himself as a dog who was trying to dry up. The blue fabric lying above his crotch was completely wet, so it couldn't serve as a towel. Raito would have to make do without such a commodity today, seeing as he'd forgotten to pick one up the last time he'd visited a house.

So he stayed there for a few moments, waiting to dry up as best as the cold air would allow him, whilst Ryuuzaki moved near the well, waiting for the women to fill their containers before he could refill his bucket.

And thus, Raito was reminded of what would happen next, which was perhaps the most humiliating part of every morning, even more humiliating than being washed by Ryuuzaki.

After a few minutes had passed, Raito turned his head around furtively, trying to make sure no one was looking. The women had thankfully left by now and Ryuuzaki was at the well, his head turned intentionally away. Raito quickly grabbed his pants and trousers, putting them on in lightning speed and scrunching up the blue fabric – which had been covering his private area all this time – in order to rid it of excess moisture, and then stretching it on a nearby large rock to dry up.

He didn't bother with putting on a shirt yet, seeing as his torso was already wet and he didn't fancy the idea of wearing clothes over wet skin unless it was absolutely necessary. His legs already felt sticky in his trousers. And he knew that soon, it would feel as though he'd never washed them at all. But it wasn't so much the matter of feeling, or being clean, Raito reasoned. In Mu, no matter what you did, you'd eventually get dirty anyway.

It was the action: the routine notion of 'cleaning and grooming oneself' that mattered. It was this action that reminded them all of something they used to have when they were still alive, when they still felt like humans and not filthy animals. It was the will to stay human. To not turn into a ghoul. To not lose touch with civilization.

There were people in Mu, of course, who did not have this concept of honour. Those were the ones who had stopped being considered humans, and had become only…ghosts of what once was.

Ryuuzaki's footsteps distracted Raito from his thoughts, and he moved his eyes away from the horizon, which he'd been staring at which rapt attention for the last few moments. He turned around, extending his hands to grab the bucketful of water that L had just handed him. And then, L moved aside, turning his back to the chestnut haired man.

Raito moved his eyes away for a few seconds, then turned to watch L's back. The only thing he saw was the image of a pale spine, wriggling out of a white shirt, before he turned around completely and stared at the back of the buildings near them. It was only polite not to watch the other undress, after all.

Truly, the feeling of this moment could redefine 'uncomfortable', Raito thought.

There were a few people passing by and going to the well, who looked at the spectacle behind Raito. Raito himself was almost tempted to turn back around, but decided not to make this even more uncomfortable and plain wrong than it already was. He knew, of course, that usually men did not have a problem with bathing together, or seeing each other naked, or…whatever, really.

But Raito was a very private person when it came to this kind of thing. He'd always despised the pompousness and collision of team sports, which is why he preferred solitary action, like tennis, running or swimming. Not to mention that he never wanted to bring himself in a position where he'd be forced to change in those horrid locker rooms. It wasn't that he was jumpy around other men – at least he'd never been before…before…what had happened in his trial, he thought with a small shudder – but he just…didn't like seeing other people.

Even Misa, who was a woman, and who had supposedly been his…girlfriend? Whatever… He had never really liked…seeing her. He just didn't like exhibition – mental of physical. He didn't like exhibition of any kind, be it for him or for someone he was close to. Exhibition just made things harder…it symbolized, for him, a precursor of emotional involvement. It was a weakness that Raito did not enjoy seeing, except in the face of his enemies.

And since L had always been an enemy, Raito should be glad at seeing him at a time of weakness, correct?

But it wasn't quite like that.

Because Raito knew very well that Ryuuzaki was rather a private person himself.

"All right" a quiet voice echoed from behind him, as though the whisper could compensate for the extreme, uncomfortable, forced intimacy of this necessary routine. Raito was almost shaking from the wrongness of it. Reassured that he could now turn around without being traumatized for afterlife by seeing something he would not want to see, Raito proceeded to grip the bucket a bit harder and suppress his irrational nervousness.

He tried not to look as he approached Ryuuzaki's figure, the shoulders of which were shaking slightly from the cold. But it was impossible to look at something without seeing it, especially when trying purposely not to see it.

And besides, to Raito's defense, it was just impossible _not_ to notice it: the overwhelming presence of that skin, which looked so soft to the touch.

Too soft for a man. But on the other hand, sculpted in perfect male physique.

It seemed, even here, the detective was controversial. Ryuuzaki's facial lack of masculinity did not extend to the rest of his body in the way one would expect. The torso, which Raito had seen in various occasions but had never had the chance – or excuse – to study so closely, did have the shape and musculature of any man. The hairless pectorals were tight, and the ribs jutted out pleasantly next to the abdominals – probably the result of martial arts or tennis training over the years. But the skin…the skin was just too white, too pure. Too…unlike Raito's. Raito's joints had always been covered with sinews, fibrous and hard to the touch – unbendable. Ryuuzaki seemed…pliable, somehow…Like some kind of…of…toddler.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, his legs seemed to carry the same trend as his hands and fingers – long, white, spidery. With only the barest trace of hair running down the calves, and a thin black line leading from the navel downwards. Raito froze, noticing that, across L's thighs was stretched the very same cloth…the very same blue cloth that…

Unexplainably, completely beyond his control, something jolted in Raito's chest, and the muscles in his cheeks started pumping frantically, as he tightened and loosened his jaw.

In the chilly, dewy air of the morning, the pores on the skin of L's preposterously white arms became taut. His dark brown nipples – which Raito was unconsciously looking at – were pebbled.

"Yagami-kun?"

Raito didn't know what the hell he was thinking. He hadn't realized he'd actually been staring openly…! He felt the blood rush to his head and ears, and tried to make himself calm down. This didn't mean anything, he repeated in his head. And, already traumatized with the concept of any kind of intimate interaction with males, he refused to accept that he'd been…he'd been…studying...

It was just natural curiosity, because he'd never seen L act this way before. He realized by the way L crossed his one hand across his chest, grabbing his shoulder, that he'd made the other man uncomfortable as well. L was hunched more than usual already, as though trying to become assimilated to the rock, or perhaps, in more of a cliché, wishing the earth would open up and swallow him.

Without thinking about it anymore, lest he embarrass himself further, Raito poised the bucket above the other's head. L unraveled his hands and bent forward. Raito began the process, reminding himself that he should be doing little to no thinking as he helped L bathe. And yet, it was impossible not to watch, not to notice the water make the surface of the skin slick. He watched the liquid drench the black hair he'd spent so much time hating, and noted the way Ryuuzaki's fingers ran through the tresses in a futile attempt to clean them.

All of these mannerisms…It was impossible to think that a person he'd thought he'd known so well could have so many new aspects. This was a part of L's existence that…Raito had never seen before.

The detective raised his arm, and Raito noticed, once again, the fact that the dark hair in L's armpit inversely accentuated the androgynous quality of his soft skin.

And then, suddenly, L tilted his head backwards, eyes closed, face directly under the bucket. From where Raito was standing, towering above the other, he could see every little detail of L's face, as it was pelted by the water. The closed eyes… the thick, black eyelashes. The first few times he'd helped Ryuuzaki wash, he hadn't recognized that face, since he'd been too accustomed to seeing Ryuuzaki's forehead covered by black bangs. But, actually, L had kept quite the forehead beneath that black bush of his, and it was perfectly visible now…

This was just too much, Raito thought, feeling a most irrational, uncalled for anger assault his senses. He couldn't take this! It was just….too much!

And yet, he continued holding the bucket in place.

In fact, Raito was looking at the unusual arrangement of the face so intently that he hadn't realized he hadn't been paying attention to the bucket. He let it tip forward a bit too much, and, before he knew it, the water was all used up.

Ryuuzaki opened his eyes, just in time to see Raito sighing slightly and muttering "Refill." Then, the chestnut haired man walked lethargically to the well, to start the process all over again. As he stood there, pulling the bucket downward and upward again, his eyes surreptitiously slithered back to the boulder-sized rock. Without moving his head, lest L notice that he was being stared at, Raito held his gaze in place. He still couldn't believe that L had used that same cloth…Raito didn't know if he should be repulsed or indifferent. He opted for the latter, if only to preserve his sanity. Besides, if he'd been in L's shoes and had nothing to cover himself up with, he would have probably done the same thing.

Raito watched from afar L's hunched figure, the black hair arranged at strange angles – that is, stranger than usual – as L kept leaning forward. Unable to pull his knees to his chest for obvious reasons, L was forced to sit like a normal person. His reasoning ability had probably dropped now that he couldn't be comfortable, Raito thought, and was attacked by a sharp keen memory of living in that body, breathing in it. Understanding its deficiencies.

'_Damn, I'd almost forgotten about that.'_ Raito thought, as he grabbed the bucket and headed back to the rock the other was sitting on. He noticed Ryuuzaki's long fingers kneading the stone on L's sides, and remembered what it had felt like when he'd been the one to operate those long fingers. When he'd been the one to-

The next batch of water fell of L's chest. Raito neutralized his mind completely. He knew that if he tried to think of anything else, his gut would tighten again, and he'd become angry for no reason.

It took one more bucket of water for L to complete his morning shower. Raito saved the last few drops, having learned after two weeks of doing this, that the last thing Ryuuzaki liked to wash was his hair.

-

"Misa!!" Raito suddenly exclaimed, catching sight of a woman with the appropriate height and hair colour. Ryuuzaki, who'd been walking on the other man's left, slowed his pace along with Raito, looking at the direction of the girl. But the woman herself didn't stop her sauntering, which could only imply that she was not the right one.

'_False alarm.'_ Raito thought to himself, and was less aggravated than he would have expected. He resumed striding forward with renewed vigor, determined to reach a place where he could find some decent fruit – at least better than the sickening usual – to eat today.

Ryuuzaki kept looking around as well, his black-covered head searching around for signs of the old man's face.

It annoyed Raito for no reason, the way Ryuuzaki always had that eager, observant expression on his face when looking for the grandpa. Unconsciously, the auburn haired man tried to take revenge on the detective, for flaunting his search for Watari.

"I have to think up an idea." Raito muttered to himself, conveniently forgetting at times like these, that he'd been travelling with someone else for more than a month and a half. He kept his voice hostile, aiming it at Ryuuzaki even though he wasn't looking directly at the other. "I can't keep sleeping in the street."

"If by 'idea' you are connoting to the houses on the sides of the street, then I assure you, for about the sixth time, that it's a bad one." Ryuuzaki's voice, laced with uncontained sarcasm, sounded from the side.

Raito felt his blood pressure augment, and his veins started a low, humming pounding against his temples.

L aggravated him.

The Japanese man restrained himself from giving a scathing remark to that understatement, and rather devoted himself to thinking of something useful. Anything to distract himself from the constant fury that appeared to be following him everywhere ever since earlier that morning, when they'd taken a shower together once more, and L's skin had glistened irritatingly again.

Suffice it to say, Raito's movements were jerky, and his fingers kept tightening in a fist. '_This situation can't go on_' he thought to himself in pure annoyance _'I hate this! This is where I draw the line! I just can't keep doing this…the humiliation of it!'_

However, he hadn't come closer to finding his ideal solution not even ten hours later, when they headed, as always, to the side of the street for a shelter. The only difference with before was that, by now, even more so than at noon, Raito felt as though he would explode in ire. Ryuuzaki, in typical fashion, had said nothing concerning Raito's erratic behaviour.

They had considered continuing to walk during the night, but it didn't seem like a prudent solution. For one thing, most of the people in Mu went hiding during the darkness, so there was a good chance that they would miss Watari and Misa. Besides that, Mu was not most popular for its nightlife. The hallucinations were not as intense at night as during the day, but those that existed were perturbing enough, and, when combined with the dark sky, created rather unpleasant visions for the regular passerby.

In contrast, Raito's arguments were also right. The nights were becoming colder and colder, and they could not enter a house together, lest they be presented with an array of ghost apparitions. And even though Raito was extremely curious to see for himself some scenes from the past, he didn't think his pride would ever stomach it if he were forced to display any embarrassing reactions of fear in front of L. It was horrible enough that he had to endure the daily humiliation of washing procedures…this would plain be too much.

"Think of it, Raito-kun. If this were a huge industrial market" Ryuuzaki suddenly said, completely out of the blue, motioning around at both the buildings and the people of Mu. Raito's shoulders tensed up immediately, realizing that the detective was in the mood for small talk "and a company owned all of this…'death industry', think of what money could be made. The customers are guaranteed" he started tipping his fingers backwards as though to number his arguments "the market is global. The Trial of Souls a mandatory process. And now this place, Mu, where each one of us is almost guaranteed to stay in for more than a year. If there were multinationals running this place, it would look very, very different."

Raito walked as the detective explained, scanning the faces around him as he walked, searching for Misa – or even, for that matter, Watari. He had become so used to being with a person who was looking for Watari that he'd now started looking for the old man as well. He suspected it was the same for L and Misa.

And speaking of Ryuuzaki, after his small comment had not been answered, he had resumed walking quietly next to Raito, standing beneath the icy grey sky and listening rather idly to the hallucinations around them. Finally, a few minutes after L had finished speaking, Raito answered, trusting himself not to sound overly angry, or anxious.

"I don't think it would be better if humans were running this place. Probably worse, actually." He concluded, staring at a tall, African-looking man for a few moments before turning to scan the crowd again.

"So you think that something else, not humans, is running this place." L stated, speaking more out of idleness and boredom than any actual interest. He probably also thought the same as Raito, of course, but he was in the mood for starting a debate with the other. Therefore, no matter what thesis Raito took in the next sentence, Ryuuzaki was probably prepared to take the opposite one.

Raito supposed that this kind of attitude rather defeated the purpose of an adult discussion. But on the other hand, discussions in this place didn't really matter did they? He could say whatever he wanted today, and whatever he wanted tomorrow…and nobody would care. Not even Ryuuzaki, since Ryuuzaki was playing the same game.

Under normal circumstances, this familiar game – the pleasant oblivion of philosophical conversations – would feel exceptionally good. But not today. Not when Raito's tendons were so high strung, and his heart constantly hammering in his chest. He walked toward a small alleyway, intent on getting away from the High Street and into a nocturnal shelter. He tried to forget L's presence.

"Not necessarily." Raito ground out of grinding teeth.

"You of all people should have learned to believe in the metaphysical, Kira-kun" The chestnut haired man started to wonder if L was doing it on purpose, knowing Raito wasn't in the mood for conversation. Maybe L was trying to probe Raito's reasons for being so annoyed. The very notion of being interrogated started grating on Raito's already agitated nerves, perhaps a bit more than it would have under ordinary circumstances.

Raito had given up after the first few days on asking L not to call him 'Kira'. He suspected that L rather liked it, in some sort of twisted personal way, so Raito tried to bypass the matter as often as he could. In the same way that he tried to bypass the general subject of the Death Note, and anything that could potentially lead to discussing L's murder. But now, in light of his constant, underlying ire, the immature anger started to become rejuvenated inside him once more.

"I have asked you many times" he started, his voice not trying to be soft or inoffensive, as it usually did. He stopped walking suddenly, and, with one rough, rigid motion turned around to glare straight at L. He was almost thrown off by L's complete unperturbed visage, but steeled himself and continued his hostile approach "Not to call me by that name."

They stared at each other, without speaking. L's eyes did not grow sharp, but retained their bottomless, blank unblinking stare, which was perhaps much more offensive than any glare could be considered. As they stared at each other, standing behind the small building they'd found as a shelter, away from the prying eyes of the High Street.

Minutes passed. Raito's eyes did not waver, nor did Ryuuzaki's. It felt like…the first time they'd ever met.

"Why?" the curt voice and sharp word cut through the silence like a knife. Raito felt as though he'd been slapped by the suddenness of it. "Isn't that what you are…? '_Killer_'?" Ryuuzaki ground out the words, his eyes refusing to blink or move away from Raito's.

But if Raito had not been so blinded by anger, or so unreasonably infuriated, he would have realized that they'd had this exact same conversation before, many, many times.

"Not anymore." He answered, and was shocked to detect the vague remorse in his own voice. But it was too late to draw it back now, since L had noticed it as well.

"Disappointed that you can't be Kira any longer, then?" the detective asked, his eyes widening impossibly, in the customary way they did whenever he was probing a suspect for a particularly crucial bit of information. But it was that very psychoanalytical intent behind the other's words that fueled Raito's ire most of all.

"I hate you." Raito spat venomously.. Right after he'd said it, he shut his jaw noisily and blinked a few times. Where on earth had _that _come from? He hadn't planned to say anything of the sort…and yet, as he opened his mouth again, the words seemed to flow out of him on their own volition, like a torrential river he'd kept bottled up inside, which was now coming forth. "I'm sick of you. What do you think you're trying to do, _you idiot_?" Raito disgustedly said, delighting in how Ryuuzaki's eyes narrowed down to slits "Make me feel guilty at this late date?"

"Do not call me 'idiot'." L spelled out, and Raito could feel the pressure building between them, as it always did before a fight. There was some kind of joy inside him, upon seeing the profound effect that his words seemed to have on Ryuuzaki. And oh, how wonderful a fight sounded right now. The unadulterated pleasure of slamming his fist against Ryuuzaki's head…of hearing the crack of L's joints as they'd snap.

But Raito was too much of an intellectual to realize that, despite having hated various people at different stages of his existence, not once had he felt as motivated as he currently did to physically express that hatred. He actually wanted to touch the other man, to grab his shoulders and wring them, to soil all the planes of skin he'd seen exposed in front of the well that morning. And the more he thought about wanting to do it, the more his want increased.

Until, soon enough, he hadn't even realized he'd taken a step forward, toward the other. L stood his ground, glaring.

"You _are_ an idiot" Raito repeated, in his ire not aware of how absolutely childish he had started to sound "who can't see beyond his own nose. As though you're not the one who wants me to be Kira. You can't stomach it, can you? To walk around with your own murderer, licking his boots?"

L took a step forward of his own, saying nothing. His eyes said it all. He wasn't beling playful any more.

But Raito did not stop there, the angry glint in L's black orbs urging him to take the decisive plunder.

"Or perhaps, you don't like to call people by their real names." The chestnut haired man let the tone of his voice trickle to poisonous sweetness – the kind of think he knew was sure to infuriate the other "You're jealous. Because you have no name of your own."

L was breathing heavily. Even Raito could see it.

"Is that why you guard the information so desperately? Because you don't want discovered that there is none? Of course, your kind of person is the only one able to stay unharmed with Kira." Raito said, just as L finally made the spiral movement of a kick. Raito brought his hand upwards, to ward off L's attack. Then, he barked out the next few words. "A man with no name!"

The fight was not as long as other times, but much more brutal. Raito panted openly, not caring. At some point, L's fingers fisted in the fabric of his flimsy black t-shirt, ripping it noisily apart.

In return, Raito grabbed a fistful of the detective's hair, yanking it. Ryuuzaki's sharp cry of pain was like something out of a fairytale – so completely unexpected that it seemed like an element of fiction. Raito kept pulling the black tresses, not realizing that the more yells he elicited, the harder his heart kept pounding. As though these pained cries and the unbelievable expression of torture on Ryuuzaki's face – black eyes shut tightly, mouth open and wanton – reminded him of something completely different. An expression he'd been denied so fervently whilst they were alive.

"What's your name?" Raito nearly growled in L's ear, not realizing how animalistic he was being until Ryuuzaki managed to bang him against a wall, at which moment Raito lost his concentration, and became dizzy enough to loosen his hold on the other man. Ryuuzaki took his chance and pelted Raito's stomach with punches, until Raito was on his hands and knees, coughing blood on the ground.

Then, Ryuuzaki's kick came sudden and sharp – like most aspects of his personality – at Raito's waist. The chestnut haired man collapsed prostate, completely exhausted and immobilized. He heard Ryuuzaki's heavy, desperate panting above him, and privately grinned to himself, with his cracked lips.

Then, after a few moments, he heard the sound of a body falling near him, like the sound of a sack hitting the ground. He didn't turn to look, even though he knew that Ryuuzaki was sitting near him, leaning against the wall, face turned upwards.

What seemed like an eternity passed in the span of a few minutes. The tension, which had been tormenting them since that morning's shower, slowly started to fade, until finally, it died. Raito's wounds gradually recovered, but he stayed there nonetheless, prostate, suddenly feeling unexplainably embarrassed. He didn't want to speak to L, or acknowledge what they'd just….what Raito himself had just…

"If not Shinigami, what is controlling this world?" L's voice sounded, a low drawl. Raito bit his lower lip, forcing himself not to answer.

Instead, he waited a few more minutes, and then opened his mouth.

"Misa?" he spoke again, keeping his voice intentionally low, although he already knew that the girl he was looking for could not possibly be anywhere near them.

L did not speak again that night.

-

"We should go."

A few minutes passed. There had been a hallucination right in front of them, featuring a girl being horribly beaten by her alcoholic mother. The hallucination had been resolved by a person in the crowd, who had tried to reason with the alcoholic mother. When that strategy had not worked, they had tried to talk to the little girl. Apparently, that had been the correct 'solution' for that hallucination: the girl had needed someone to talk to; that was all. Raito was amazed by the sheer number of hallucinations which shared this simple – and yet so difficult – solution.

Finally, jarred back to reality by Ryuuzaki's voice, Raito proceeded to walk forward, away from the rapidly dispersing crowd and to the direction they had been moving in before becoming immersed in the hallucination. He submerged himself in his thoughts once again, losing himself in a sea of questions about his own reactions. Ever since that time they'd last fought, Raito would have thought that relations between him and L would have become much worse. But instead, it seemed that they remained as they always had: begrudging acceptance was the sentiment that prevailed between them, most of the time.

And that confused Raito more than anything. Because even though his volcanic fury had faded, compared to before…there was still that lingering annoyance, emulated every time he was forced to help Ryuuzaki have a shower, which tortured his every waking moment.

Perhaps it would have been better to part ways with Ryuuzaki after a-

Suddenly, as they were walking in the pronounced silence of the crowd, a loud voice was heard, rising above all others, jarring them both out of their thoughts.

"MARIA!!" a woman nearby positively shrieked. Although for a change, it was not a scream of terror, or anxiety. It was joy.

The crowd around Raito stopped moving, everyone stopping to stare at what was happening. The woman they'd seen, a relatively short brunette, ran forward, only to be enveloped in the arms of a seemingly younger woman of the same stature.

"Sister!!" the younger woman, Maria, shouted, before being suffocated by her sister's embrace. Raito and L didn't say a word, opting just to keep staring. It was another reunion they were witnessing: obviously, these two sisters had been searching for each other all along…

"Where have you been – I looked everywhere for you – I've been so scared that you-" the woman was crying as she spoke, her voice shivering. Raito clenched his jaw as he watched the exchange, feeling L tense beside him.

"Me too – I've been everywhere in this place, but I – have you seen Mom and Dad? Do you know if-"

They both spoke Spanish, only a bit of which Raito could understand. But what he could translate proved his initial theories correct – they were sisters who'd been looking for each other all along, to the extent that-

Suddenly, however, as they were watching, before the eyes of the aghast crowd, the figures of the two women began to glow slightly. And as they talked animatedly, their eyes never leaving each other in their excitement at finally having found each other, they didn't seem to notice that…that…

"Is that….?" Raito started, his eyes rounder than usual and mouth hanging slightly open.

"…paradise?" Ryuuzaki finished for him, and the way he uttered the word reminded Raito of the way he'd always spoken about Shinigami: as though he didn't believe it truly existed, and was surprised to see it with his own eyes.

Then, slowly, the bodies of the two women started to become blurrier and blurrier, until finally…no one could see them anymore. The only thing that was left was a flowing outline, and then…nothing.

In all the time Raito had been here, he had never seen it happen so rapidly. He'd seen a few reunions of people who he'd thought had been searching for each other, but he'd never seen them …disappear quite so quickly. He'd seen it happen a few more times, but never so automatically upon the reunion of two people. It usually took a few more minutes.

Did this mean that…that when one finds the person who's looking for them…they leave forever…? They…die? They are wiped out? What kind of…Raito could never understand it clearly. The only thing he could gather, with this new information, was that the speed at which two people would go to paradise together depended on the eagerness that they originally had to find each other.

Which must mean that those two sisters had been truly longing to find each other all along. Some part of him – the very small, subconscious part that he was not aware of – reminded him unnecessarily that he'd been walking with L for a month.

L was most obviously not the person searching for Raito, then.

So many questions! And just when Raito had thought that, having come this far, he ought to be able to discover some answers. But the truth was….he probably wasn't. He was no more clairvoyant than a blind man with glasses, he thought in irritation, staring at the blank space that had once been the two happy sisters.

Spending eternity with your sister. How boring, he couldn't help but think.

But then he remembered Sayu, and decided he had rather stop thinking about sisters altogether. Thinking about Sayu, along with thinking about…certain other things, had strictly been banned from his mind.

He'd been so distracted with his own thoughts that he almost got trampled by a child that came running down the street, squeezing between the adults. It didn't happen so often, but when one did see a child in Mu, one's insides always cramped rather painfully, since the child's presence meant the death of a young life.

Even so, Raito had been jerked back to reality from his trance, only to realize that the crowd had started moving again. He turned to Ryuuzaki, intent on asking the other what he thought of the whole ordeal.

"Ryuuzaki-"

He wasn't expecting what he saw, however.

L was still staring at the place the two women had been standing, his eyes a bit blank, as though he wasn't really seeing anything, but was lost in thought. There was this expression on his face…this strange expression. It was...

The moment Raito saw it, it struck a nerve somewhere. It reminded him of a picture he didn't want to see.

"…Ryuuzaki…?"

It took perhaps an entire minute for L to return to reality. It was probably Raito's persistent stare rather than his words which made the detective finally turn around. His eyes didn't have their usual spark of genius, however. They were dull.

"What?" the former investigator asked, in a rather unusually rude, grumpy way. Raito tried not to be surprised, thinking he ought to be used to this expressiveness, by now.

"Want to go?"

L looked at him.

They started walking. And for once, they were quite content to walk along with the flow of the crowd, not trying to bypass, squeeze between or involve themselves with anyone. Ryuuzaki was deadly quiet, his head permanently turned away from the other man. There was some part of Raito that felt good about knowing his eternal rival and antagonist was experiencing such plight. Although he would have preferred it, perhaps, if L had decided he wanted to brawl physically.

It was amazing, now that Raito thought about it. This creature, L, despite his refusal to care or occupy himself with emotions, had the ability to display the most powerful expressions at the most unexpected moments. Not even a thousand words from Raito's advanced vocabulary could express with more clarity than L's face, at that moment, the mixture of jealousy and desperation one feels when seeing the reunion of two others.

And even though some old, dark part of Raito felt justified in knowing that L was suffering, he couldn't find it in himself to rub it in Ryuuzaki's face. That would be hypocritical of him after all, wouldn't it? Since he was in the exact same predicament as the other.

More than an hour had passed, and they'd walked silently all this time, not exchanging even a single word. The colours of the world around them seemed dark and quiet – hues of blue, black and white. With every moment that passed, and every surreptitious glance Raito shot at the other's direction, he was sure Ryuuzaki was undoubtedly thinking the same thing as himself.

They were not each other's…chosen people. Perhaps Raito had thought, even though he didn't want to admit it to himself, that, if he never did manage to find Misa, then…maybe…

But now, after having seen the actual thing, and after having realized precisely how quickly one goes to 'heaven' after truly finding their chosen one, he knew that L was definitely not…

In any case, Raito reasoned with himself, it wasn't that he wanted L to be his…it had just been the countless days that they had stayed in each other's company that had made him so aware of Ryuuzaki's existence. He wouldn't have ever thought of L if he hadn't met him that day. And he suspected it was the same for L himself. As such, since they'd never been looking for each other…and if they'd never been searching for each other, how could they possibly be each other's…

No, this idea was stupid anyway. Why would Raito want to spend eternity with Ryuuzaki – a man, no less. They weren't even good friends. Each of their exchanges felt slightly uncomfortable, since they were both always thinking that they're not supposed to be involved with each other.

"I want to find Watari." L suddenly said, the curtness of his voice acting like a snake's bite in the stillness. It was a statement – an evaluation of the current situation. Raito didn't stop walking, since at the time Ryuuzaki had proclaimed his intentions, he too had been thinking 'I must find Misa'.

There was nothing that Raito could – or felt like he needed to say. He couldn't reassure L that everything would be all right. That would have been a female – and a very disingenuous – thing to do. Not to mention that a man like L would not appreciate blatant lying. On the other hand, it seemed cruel to his own ears to tell L the obvious truth, that it was more possible to find a needle in a hay stack than Watari – or Misa, for that matter – in Mu.

So he settled for the next best thing to say: nothing.

That night though, without really realizing why he was doing it, he let L take both coats and use them as a pillow.

-

The next day, Raito proposed they enter one of the houses to spend the night. He simply wasn't prepared to face another night in the humid, frosty, isolated atmosphere of the world of Mu once again. If they could enter a house, if only for a little while, perhaps gather some blankets, towels and supplies…perhaps just stay there for a little while…

"We don't necessarily have to stay there for the night" Raito explained to a silent L in order to convince the detective, even though the idea of a real bed – with a mattress – sounded very good indeed. "If things get too intense, we can always leave." Raito said, reluctant to name the actual 'intense things' – like the ghost apparitions – that went on inside the houses.

Sure, they would have to deal with the hallucinations, but that would probably not be too bad if they were together. And besides, Raito thought, he really could use a warm bath…

"Just for an hour and a half. Besides, I really need a new shirt." Raito said, trying not to sound like he was begging, and fighting to keep his dignity as he motioned toward his torn shirt – a residue from their latest explosive fight. Thankfully, he knew that Ryuuzaki would not refuse him something if he asked for it with logical arguments – this was just one of the ways Ryuuzaki operated.

"It's not a good idea to enter houses." L answered, for the umpteenth time, but Raito interrupted again, not letting the other elaborate. He hoped that, if he could stifle Ryuuzaki with optimism, the other would not have a chance to protest.

"We need to reassemble our supplies. Even you cannot deny that it's terribly cold during the night." Raito countered.

Deciding that a bit of drama may help, Raito pushed his hair backwards, rather shamelessly displaying his bloodshot eyes from that morning.

Ryuuzaki stared at the other man for a few moments, then turned his eyes away. Raito mentally grinned.

The first thing they heard when they went from the outside to the inside of the house was oppressive silence – not even the usual wisp of ghosts, but extreme, solid silence. Literally deafening; the kind of silence that implies the air is not being stirred around properly. The kind of silence that makes one's eardrums hurt.

Only after they heard the resounding banging sound of the closing door did they realize that they were not inside a house at all. Upon seeing their surroundings, and realize the door had shut decisively behind them, Ryuuzaki whirled around, trying to open the doors handle.

But the door would not budge.

Raito and L stared at each other, and Raito fancied he could actually hear Ryuuzaki's voice mocking him in his mind. It was only the overwhelming silence around them that was keeping L from saying '_I told you so._'

And indeed, if Raito wanted to be completely honest…this was not turning out to be such a good idea after all.

Instead of inside a house, they were…in the middle of a street. An incredibly crowded, yet silent street. Very much like the High Streets of Mu actually, except much quieter.

Pressure was building in their ears from the silence, as they walked around. It didn't take long for either of them to realize that something was wrong.

That is, even more wrong than they'd initially thought.

Ryuuzaki's head whipped around, fluffy black strands flying about his face, staring at the people around them. They were all standing there, unmoving, like statues. Not speaking, not looking around. All in all, it was just another normal day in Mu, with the only difference that the people had stopped moving. And talking.

Ryuuzaki turned to stare at Raito, who, faced with a new alert, was starting to recover from the humiliating and self-wallowing pity of having led them face-first into a trap, and was busy focusing on the present. He looked at L, a mirroring perplexity etched on his features.

What on earth was happening?

The buildings….the buildings around them were…too tall…too modern…

Raito's muscles tensed immediately, and he started to stare at the people of the crowd, trying to notice any inconsistencies, or any kind of signs that...that something was off.

He turned to check L's location, spotting the other man immediately. They exchanged a meaningful stare, both believing it would be best not to speak, lest they disrupt the suspicious silence. But just as they were about to move out of the crowd and toward one of the buildings, a sudden loud, prominent noise was heard.

The people in the crowd, including L and Raito, all turned upwards, to stare at a common point. The way they all moved together was disorienting enough, as though they were a mass of…of...creatures with a common intelligence.

But as he turned to see what they were all looking at, Raito's veins chilled.

_The building_.

"The HQ building…" L's voice suddenly sounded, in a mutter. Raito turned to look at the detective from afar, realizing that L's features were arranged in a combination of suspicion, which was there only to cover fear and anxiety.

The building. He turned around hoarsely, looking at the crowd around him with newfound understanding.

This was….this was…

The buildings looked different because they were not from Mu. This was not Mu, it was…something else.

'_Toukyo.' _Raito thought, as frost permeated his brain, almost immobilizing his thinking processes. Without realizing how frantically he was moving, he dived to the left, squeezed through the crowd in order to reach Ryuuzaki, all the time feeling goosebumps run over his skin as he rubbed against the clothes of the people around him. But just as he was about to grab L's hand and yank him away, a sudden shouting sound was heard again, and Raito turned upward, hoarsely. And that was when he saw, on the very top of the building in front of him – the Headquarters' building – the figures of two people.

Raito's movements froze. He'd expected to see only one figure of a man in a white shirt and blue trousers. But now, instead of that, looming above him, miles from the ground was not one, but two people, one in a white shirt and the other in a blue, pinstripe suit.

And they were fighting with each other, occasionally shouting. They were fighting each other physically, with punches and kicks…like the real L and Raito so often did.

"Is that…" Ryuuzaki's voice sounded from beside him, and Raito turned to look first at the other person and then back at the top of the HQ building, a taste of sickness filling his mouth. "…us?" Ryuuzaki concluded, and his tone of disbelief sounded like a cracked record in the silence.

'_Am I… dreaming?'_ Raito wondered, and a chill ran up his spine as he experienced the full-fledged strangeness of this situation. He didn't understand how this could be happening. How he could be located in this place now, when-? And why was there not one, but two figures…?

But he wouldn't stay here to find out. Grabbing Ryuuzaki's upper arm strongly enough to bruise, he pulled the other man aside, in an attempt to manhandle Ryuuzaki into following him away from here.

"We have to leave here!" he only said by means of explanation, his loud voice a whip within the silent crowd. But L stood his ground, refusing to cooperate.

"This is the same as last time, is it not?" Ryuuzaki said, his voice steeling over "The thing you didn't want me-"

"Let's go!" Raito barked, not caring that he was being so obtrusive in the middle of a silent crowd, since the people around didn't seem to notice him at all. In fact, if he looked carefully at each and every one of them, he could almost fancy that he saw a small red light dormant in the eyes of each and every one of them.

He tried to pull L forward again, but the detective was quite strong, and would not let himself be pushed around. They started tugging at each other, waiting for the stronger one to prevail. However, just as Raito had finally managed to make Ryuuzaki move, another, louder screeching sound was heard and the two men had no choice but to look upwards, in alarm.

The two men, fighting above the building as a perfect mirror image of what the real Raito and the real L were doing below, were the ones making these noises. It was utterly illogical both that they could be heard down here from all the way up there and that they were so clearly visible. But in some strange way, it was possible. Raito, as surprised as L and starting to feel physically ill again, felt some kind of knot be tied in his throat as he watched the fight unravel.

There was another shriek from the fighters, although it was unclear if it came from the man in the pinstripe suit – Raito – or the man in the white shirt – Ryuuzaki. This situation was incomprehensible – how could they be here, watching themselves fight? It was illogical. It was inconsistent. It was…

'_Like the Trial.'_ Raito dared to think.

"What…?" Raito heard L say from beside him, and was unpleasantly reminded of the fact that he was here with company. And if the narrowed eyes on L's face where any indication…L was already starting to piece this hallucination together, even though Raito himself was utterly confused…

But just as the auburn-eyed man was about to speak again, and insist they leave, a certain buzz started to erupt in the crowd, around them. Voices started to echo – audible voices, which was strange in itself – from all corners of the conglomeration of people. Raito thought he caught snippets of conversation here and there.

"_Hey…isn't that Kira…?_"

"_-that's right! Kira protects us!"_

"…_Kira is fighting for us-…"_

"_-the dark angel will-"_

Soon, there were thousands of them, mutters and whispers, coalescing into a constant buzzing noise around them.

"_we must help-"_

"_we must-"_

Suddenly, without warning, the eyes of the people around them all turned glowing red.

Raito grabbed Ryuuzaki's elbow and pulled him backwards. His grip was steel, but Ryuuzaki tensed the muscles on his arm, resisting Raito's force. And so, Raito tried to speak again and reason with the other.

"-e have to g-" even though his words were lost in the onslaught of noise, he was fairly sure Ryuuzaki understood what he'd said. And yet, L chose to stay there, unmoving, his eyes fixed on the fighting figures of the building.

Until finally, as though controlled by some common sentience, all the people around them, with their eyes glowing red, stretched their hands upwards, in a grabbing motion.

Raito, his breathing growing erratic and hoarse, watched their fingernails, and the hair on his arms stood on end. He knew what would happen next, he thought, as he turned upwards to see the two men fighting on top of the HQ building. He didn't know why the scene wasn't exactly as he remembered it, but he was relatively sure that the horrible hallucination would end with the man in the blue suit on the HQ building being horribly torn apart by the outstretched Hands of the people around them.

He pushed Ryuuzaki backwards, trying to get as far away from the crowd as possible. He tried to put his body in front of L's, so that Ryuuzaki would hopefully never have the chance to see what would happen. However, judging by what the crowd were saying…it was all a bit contradictory…They sounded like they wanted to help Kira, not…. But just as Raito had daring to think things could not get any worse, a loud, imposing noise boomed from above them all.

"_I am justice!_" the voice rang, and both Raito and L recognized it as the mechanical voice that L had always used in public broadcasts. Only it sounded much more offensive than it had in the past. The mechanical voice was cropped and fast, the kind of tone someone would expect to hear from a marionette or a robot, Raito realized, and his teeth started rattling in his mouth.

"_I am justice!!!_" the voice shouted again, and it was so loud that Raito had to cover his ears. He noticed, from the corner of his eye, that L did the same. But no one else in this crowd mirrored this action, acting completely unaffected and keeping their hands raised high in the air, in grabbing motions, as though trying already to rip something – or someone – apart.

Raito was alarmed. Why was all this happening? None of this had happened in his Trial. He didn't want to believe that the hallucination would be as humiliating as to show him being defeated by L in a fight, then thrown off the HQ building and ripped apart by the crowd, But it seemed that this was the scenario that this hallucination would follow, Raito though, disgustedly.

"_I am justice!!"_ and just as the voice, disturbing in its robotic quality, sounded for a third time, a scream sounded from above. Raito turned, alerted, to focus on the fighting figures on top of the building. Was it time already…? He expected to see himself being thrown off the building at any moment. But he turned just in time to see the figure in the blue suit – himself – grab the other man's head roughly. Raito couldn't see clearly from this point, but he was certain that the man in the blue suit had torn off a chunk of the other's hair. As the black tresses were ripped off, the man in the white shirt – L – screamed loudly, and it was such an utterly horrifying sound, that Raito thought the earth shook with it. From beside Raito, L sucked a quick breath – too quick.

The black wad of hair had blood at its roots, seeing as it had been ripped off the detective's head so violently. Raito felt sick as he watched. Any moment now…any moment and the Ryuuzaki on the rooftop would shove Raito's alter ego off the building…any moment, and Raito would witness himself being ripped apart by millions of hands.

"_I am justice!"_ From Raito's side, Ryuuzaki's eyes had grown still, as they always did when he was concentrating intensely. But Raito had no time to explain anything, even though he tried to. From that moment onward, all happened within seconds.

Suddenly, the man in the blue suit on the building grabbed his opponent by the white shirt. And without a second thought, or even a little hesitation, it seems, he simply threw the other man off the building.

Raito stared, his expression a mask of true horror – the kind of terror which always accompanies the realization of ignorance – as he literally saw himself throwing Ryuuzaki off the terrace of the HQ skyscraper. From beside him, L was equally speechless. It was an instant of incomprehension at first, but that cannot even begin to explain the horror that followed, as Raito watched the little speck of white and black falling downward, spiraling toward the ground with extreme velocity.

L was….L was…falling. It wasn't Raito…it wasn't Raito…it was L!

And for some reason, this event intensified Raito's panic, verifying he had absolutely no idea about what was happening around him.

"Move aside!!" Raito shouted at L – the real L, who was standing beside him – as the saw the body dropping from the sky, in an orbit that was aiming directly for Raito. Ryuuzaki also realized that if they didn't move immediately, the falling body would pulverize them.

And even if they were already dead, it was a human reflex to try and stay out of harm's way.

A few seconds later, as both men dove to the side, the unmistakable sickening cracking sound was heard from behind them. It had all happened so fast, and it was all so intensely incomprehensible at the first few moments, that even Raito was not fully sure he understood what had happened.

Unable to help himself, out of sheer disbelief if not anything else, he turned around.

"Oh…Oh no…" he whispered, and covered his mouth with his hand, mostly because he didn't know what to do and needed to bite something in order to keep his composure. His skin was being stretched horribly by the frost and silence in the air. This was not happening. This was not happening, he kept repeating in his mind. This _could not _be happening.

But that didn't alleviate the fact that there was Ryuuzaki's corpse right in front of him, back broken in two and neck twisted backwards, a patch of hair missing from his cranium, black eyes staring straight at Raito's face.

"Oh no." he repeated, and gingerly turned to look at the real Ryuuzaki, who'd been standing next to him the whole time. The expression on the real L's face was unreadable – it was as though the nerves in the man's facial features had become deactivated, so that the only thing Raito could see was a frigid, neutral, expressionless mask. Then, L started blinking. He started blinking spastically, staring at his own corpse. Raito tried to move in front of the real L, to hide the horrid vision from the other man's view. But it seemed that L didn't want the view to be hidden. He pushed Raito aside, trying to take a better look at it, his eyelids still blinking in the same neurotic way.

But it didn't end there.

"_Kill him."_

"_Help God."_

"_Kill him."_

The people in the crowd started approaching the deformed corpse, their hands stretched forward. Raito wanted to tell them to stop, but did not have the power to approach them, with their outstretched hands like that. When the first of them grabbed the dead body Raito turned his face away, covering his eyes with his left palm, and breathing with intentional calmness, trying to ignore the stench of blood around him.

L stayed there, looking at the scene. He saw it all.

The only thing that Raito could hear, after a while, were the sounds of animals feeding. He gripped his face harder with his palm, forcing himself not to open his mouth, lest he start screaming uncontrollably.

"_I am justice!"_ the mechanical voice resumed, from above, as though never having stopped.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Raito felt something wet collide with his elbow. He didn't dare look at what it was. He just shook his hand a bit, until the sticky thing had been dislodged, and then carefully brought his arm forward to inspect it. A red blotch was adorning the back of his forearm.

All in all, this was where he drew the line. He didn't know what was happening, or why this horrible twist had taken place in this already grotesque scenario, but…

He moved forward solidly, intending to leave this scene. But just as he'd expected, when he reached the door they had come in from it would not open. He tried to walk out of the 'house' and to the High Street, but he realized that not even the handle of the door would budge.

He was not allowed to leave.

"Yagami-kun?" a scratchy, whisper of a voice sounded from behind him, and, without thinking, Raito turned around to talk to L. But as he turned, he came face to face with what he'd been trying not to look at for so long.

He gasped, of course, when he saw the bloody skeleton that was lying on the ground, abandoned in a puddle of blood – the only thing that remained from…

The people of the crowd, with their blood-drenched hands, where sitting around the corpse in a mockery of mourning. They looked mellow – calm, at last.

Raito turned away again, trying to erase the memory and succeeding only in replaying it over and over in his mind.

This must be a dream, he reminded himself.

This must be a dream. There was no way this could be happening so suddenly for no reason, when everything in Mu had gone so smoothly until now…And there was no reason

"It won't let us leave." He said, his voice shaking uncontrollably. He did not want to be here. He did not want L to be here…he did not want this to be happening…this mantra was the only thing his immobilized brain could summon.

"What?" L questioned, and Raito realized that his voice was just as shaky as his own, and having completely lost all semblance of composure.

"This…place…hallucination …won't let us leave." Raito said rigidly, refusing to care about his trembling fingers. He kept his back turned to L, for once not because he was intentionally trying to anger the other, but because he could not bear to turn around.

"Of course. You have to make it." The decisiveness in the detective's voice came in sharp contrast with the fatalism that had already started to grown in Raito's mind. In fact, it came in sharp contrast with the way their voices had been whispery and hesitant until then.

Raito was so shocked by the routine solidness in the other's tone that he was poised to answer in the same manner, as though what had just happened was just some small, insignificant, ordinary incident, which should not detract from their daily routines.

"Define 'make it'?" he asked, confusion reigning prevalent in his mind. He'd been so shocked by the former events that he didn't have the will or strength to consider the situation logically.

"There is some hidden clause," Ryuuzaki instructed, and, after having watched himself be brutally murdered by Raito himself and cannibalized, it made sense that he would raise his voice, so Raito didn't hold it against him. "which will resolve this."

Raito raised his head in rapt attention. L was right, wasn't he? There always was some kind of trick – some hidden clause – which would allow him to escape. At least there always was in his trial…And it was exactly this prospect of escaping this nightmare that attracted Raito's attention so much.

"_I am justice!"_

Raito turned around slightly, just enough to present his profile to the other man, but not enough to see the horrid sight, which would distract him from his new purpose..

"You've seen this before haven't you?" L asked again, his tone slightly accusatory, but mostly motivational.

"Seen?" Raito asked, a bit ironically. If only he'd just dreamt it, and not participated in it. Besides, this wasn't exactly what he'd always seen. He hadn't really seen this before…"No. Not…exactly." He answered, completely honest for once.

"Then…what did you see?" Ryuuzaki asked, his voice rough and on edge.

Raito kept silent for a few moments, thinking.

Of course…_what he'd seen._

He slowly turned around fully, steeling himself as his eyes gingerly locked on L's black ones. They stayed like that for a few moments, each looking at the other quizzically, as though expecting an answer that would never come. But Raito kept his eyes trained meticulously on the other's, knowing that if he let himself look at the grotesque wreckage behind the other man, he would once again lose all his confidence.

"_I am justice!" _ the siren sounded once again, now grating on their worst fears.

Then, finally, without speaking, Raito walked forward, past Ryuuzaki. He kept his eyes half-shut as he shuffled amongst the blood-drenched crowd toward the entrance of the HQ building. His shoes made horrible squelching soudnds as he walked, but he was at least comforted by the fact that, from behind him, Ryuuzaki's footsteps were making the same noise.

At least that reminded him that he was not alone this time. Someone was there with him, experiencing that same level of disgust. And even though L couldn't possibly know what Raito was planning to do, he followed nonetheless. That small detail served as some consolation.

The trek to the top floor was difficult, as Raito had expected it to be. The lifts weren't operating, and they had to climb the emergency staircases to the fiftieth floor. He shivered as he climbed the steps, and his legs could not support him anymore after some time. He leaned on the banisters, but it still felt as though he were falling. From beside him, Ryuuzaki also looked ready to collapse, his claw-shaped fingers trying to hook into anything they could get a hold of in order to aid their master. Raito noticed that the detective seemed nervous in the close, dark quarters of the narrow corridors, as though he felt trapped.

But Raito didn't remember L being claustrophobic. Rather the opposite.

When they reached the security door to the terrace, Raito pushed it open with labour. L pushed as well, much less delicately than Raito, as he simply crashed his body against the heavy metal of the gate, like a beast desperate to escape a cage.

Then, they walked outside.

The sky had different hues of yellow, orange and pink. Raito didn't wish to see it. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be…anywhere but here. He turned to the left. And sure enough, at the edge of the platform, standing there in all the glory of his pin-striped suit, isolated and looking downwards, a tall, slender man had his back turned to them.

The real Raito exchanged a cursory glance with Ryuuzaki. Then, with shaking knees, he walked forward.

Without a single word, Raito raised his hand, which was trembling. He sucked in a breath, and, before the man in front of him – his alter ego – had a chance to turn around, he brought his hand down. A well-aimed hit on the back of the head was all it took. His doppelganger collapsed on the floor of the terrace, a batch of thick black hair clasped in his right hand.

Raito stood there for a few moments, his jaws shaking and teeth rattling again, as he watched the unconscious body lying at his feet. It felt so strange to see his own face – so strange having hit the back of his own head, having touched his own hair as a third person.

Moments passed, and the silence weighed down on them. Raito had no intention to approach the edge of the building. But somehow, he was not as wary as he'd thought he'd be – it didn't feel like he was the one who was destined to…to fall today.

Remembering something all of a sudden, and without explaining his intensions to Ryuuzaki, Raito bent downwards, looming over his alter ego's fainted body.

Working quickly, he opened the lapel of the pinstripe blue suit, and let his hand dig in the inner pocket, finding exactly what he was searching for. He pulled the wallet out slowly, careful not to let anything fall down, and placed in his own trouser pocket. He meticulously avoided L's eyes as he did all this, lest his expression reveal to L – by some mystical force – exactly what Raito had been searching for in that wallet. He didn't really care what L would think of him for robbing an unconscious person – even if that person happened to be his alter ego. As long as he could get his hands on what he'd been searching for so desperately, he didn't mind.

_That photo…_ Raito thought, almost shivering from the excitement. _My photo…_

Then, before he could regret what he was doing, or start having second thoughts, he grabbed the body by the torso and dragged it forward, to the precarious aerial platform.

L did not speak, just stared. Perhaps he was marveling at Raito's extraordinary ability to arrange his own death. Raito was marveling at this as well. Perhaps, in the long period of time that had intervened between the time he'd been the person standing on the platform and the time he was the person standing behind the platform, something had changed.

Something which perhaps made him feel it was necessary for this man to start dying now, if he could ever have a chance to live tomorrow. And in the same way, the real Raito would have to kill this man, right now, if he ever wanted to escape this loop. And if 'killing himself', in some strange way, was what it would take to escape forever, then…even though he remembered the intense pain of it…

…_Then…_

"That's it?" L's voice sounded, and he stared at the unconscious person.

"The rest will take care of itself." Raito said, and moved away from the platform, having smelled the scent of fire from the buildings around them. It was time…he thought. It was time for it to happen. "When he wakes up, just do whatever you want. He won't harm you."

Ryuuzaki stared at him quietly from the side, his black eyes bottomless, his mouth completely sealed.

He woke up in ten minutes, and, the moment he woke up, a loud scream echoed around them all, like a siren.

When he stood up on the shaking platform, his pinstripe suit now soiled and dirty, he looked like he couldn't move. Then, he buried the wad of hair that he was holding in his own mouth on his own volition. He started choking on it.

Perhaps Ryuuzaki thought it prudent to say something, at this point, if only just to prompt the other to turn around. Raito, having moved many feet away from the edge of the roof, would not be seen by his alter ego, even if the doppelganger ever managed to turn around…which he wouldn't; Raito knew.

"Yagami-kun." Ryuuzaki said, in a mixture of condemnation, greeting and confusion. As Raito – the real Raito – heard it being spoken, he felt some kind of frigid wave entrap his heart. It was that voice…that exact voice…

Then, unexpectedly, the sound of a loud bell echoed around them, like the bells of St Paul's Cathedral, that they'd heard a few days ago. The platform in front of them, with the man completely motionless on top of it, gagging on his own hand, started shaking wildly.

Raito, who'd been standing next to Ryuuzaki until then, could not bear to watch. He heard the sound of the platform dislodging – a sound he'd grown to recognize all too well. A few torturous screeching sounds of metals sliding against each other and then, the next time Raito turned around, the platform and the man on it weren't there anymore. Strangely enough, he felt a bit…better now that they were gone, even though he knew the kind of pain his alter ego must be undergoing right now. Raito kept standing backwards, refusing to walk to the edge of the terrace and observe what was happening below.

Ryuuzaki, however, who had the privilege of witnessing this wonderful scene for the first time, appeared very curious to see what was happening. He was poised at the edge of the rooftop, looking below with a face of patient evaluation. After a few minutes of watching what was going on below, the detective turned to Raito.

"So the same people kill both me and you, in the end. Very philosophical, Raito-kun." L nodded in a drawl of appreciation, his hands in his pockets as he started downwards, a vaguely melancholy expression on his face, Raito noticed. The detective then turned to look at him, and, for some reason, Raito felt embarrassed. By the way L was looking at him, it was as though he knew that this scene had been associated deeply with Raito's Trial.

"No ,L…they don't kill us. We kill each other." Raito said tonelessly, motioning toward the air between them "Their job is to eat us up."

And somehow, having made this discovery, having finally solved the eternal riddle and answered the question 'why' it had all happened, Raito felt rather…liberated. Despite the fact that he'd never wished for any other person – least of all Ryuuzaki – to witness this extremely personal scene.

Speaking of L, he turned around again, to watch the events below them. Raito heard the vague sound of animalistic shouts, and gulped.

"As if nothing ever happened, right Raito-kun? Until only the bones remain." L echoed, his eyes blinking slowly.

"That's how society works. Both for me…an… you." He said, and rubbed the back of his neck as he ambled around Ryuuzaki "In the end, from that aspect, it doesn't much matter whose side you're on."

"I know." Ryuuzaki nodded, and Raito immediately shut his mouth.

"So you do." He said, suddenly realizing that, just because these things were a revelation to him did not mean that…that they were a revelation to everyone else as well. Somehow, this thought ached more than he'd expected.

A long time passed. Raito wanted to stay up here until it was all over, and he could calmly leave this scene forever behind him. Ryuuzaki wanted to watch over the entire scene as well, so he stayed poised at the edge of the terrace the whole time.

"Wouldn't it be interesting if he ended up seeing me up here, though? He'd think this was some sort of revenge scheme on my part." Ryuuzaki commented, his voice with a bit of a mischievous undertone, in the midst of all the melancholy. It took a moment for Raito to understand that he was referring to his alter ego.

"Oh, don't worry. He can see you perfectly well." Raito said before he could stop himself. When he'd realized what he'd revealed, however, it was too late: Ryuuzaki's huge eyes had already turned toward him, two extremely black beacons in the evening light. They were wide with disbelief, and Ryuuzaki's mouth was half-open.

Raito had just inadvertently…

The chestnut-haired man cleared his throat and kicked away from the wall behind him. Then, he turned his back to the other.

"Well, it should be over by now." He said, his voice a soliloquy of fake nonchalance "Should we get going?"

But Ryuuzaki didn't say anything after that. His complex mind had probably dived in thought, to the extent that Raito's feeble attempts at reconstructing a semblance of normality were completely and unabashedly ignored. The detective was probably too immersed with thinking about what Raito had just revealed to actively care about what was happening now.

The descent of the stairs turned out much easier than the ascent, although still tiring. The problem this time was not the stairs themselves, but the uncomfortable awkward silence that accompanied their every footstep.

They needed food and drink immediately, and Raito could not believe that he had suddenly gained the ability to feel so…so…sane and stable in the context of all this paranoia. It must be the fact that Ryuuzaki was with him, he thought. This must have been why everything felt so much easier when there was someone – even an enemy – here to consult.

And even though they felt awkward now, it wasn't even half as bad as Raito had expected it to be. Ryuuzaki surely was silent, but seemed thoughtful instead of hostile.

They reached the front door of the building. Beyond the glass, they could see the remains of the carnage which had transpired in the street. If Raito's speculations were correct, this elaborate hallucination would probably allow them to exit now. In fact, he didn't need to speculate: he could feel it, in his gut. It was over.

No sooner had he thought this than he watched L open the front doors of the HQ building.

But instead of the bloody Tokyou street that he'd expected to face, the only thing he saw was the regular, familiar High Street of Mu, complete with the silent throng of people, the hallucinations, and the trees with the rotten fruit.

Raito had never thought there would come another day, after his Trial, when he'd be glad to be faced with this scenery. L seemed relieved as well, which was obvious by the way he let out a sigh the moment they walked out of the door.

It was still too early to say anything, or ask for an explanation regarding the particularities of houses in Mu, so Raito kept silent. They walked out, each with their own thoughts.

They didn't speak any more that day. Whenever they wanted anything from the other, they'd just show a gesture, or tap the other's shoulder. But they didn't speak.

-

"I trust you now understand why visiting houses in Mu can be dangerous." L said quietly, the two stones snapping in his hands as he tried to rub them against each other to start a fire. He was obviously not particularly experienced, or skilled with this, Raito thought.

"You mean you'd never noticed this before, even though you've been here for so long?" Raito asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest, as he leaned back against the nearby wall. He rubbed his upper arms, and glared a bit at Ryuuzaki's failed attempts at creating a respectable fire "Will that take much longer?" he asked in annoyance, jutting his chin toward L's fumbling hands.

Without waiting for an answer, Raito moved forward, roughly grabbing the objects from L's hands and kneeling in front of the small pile of wood, getting to work immediately. L seemed only too happy to recline backwards, assigning this job to Raito.

"I'd never walked into a house with someone else before, so I couldn't possibly have" Ryuuzaki answered in his own pace, sitting on the ground, near a pile of gathered metallic and plastic debris. Now that his hands were free, he picked up a ruined telephone in his characteristic way, studying it carefully and then putting it back exactly where he'd found it.

Ever since what had happened yesterday, and the revelations that had occurred about Raito's Trial of Souls, they had not spoken. At least, Raito had not wanted to speak much, and he suspected the same stood for L. What few words had been exchanged had been that morning, during their customary showering ritual. Now was actually the first time they were discussing it. The bottled up tension was finally starting to be defused, and Raito was trying to gain answers to some much needed questions.

"You mean that what happened yesterday is associated with the fact that we went inside together?" Raito reasoned, considering the aspects of the idea.

"Yes, or else it would happen whenever you visit a house on your own as well." Ryuuzaki said, and Raito had to admit the theory had plausibility. "I suspect it has something to do with the houses becoming 'crowded'. When more than one mind congest inside a narrow space in Mu…then their senses somehow…synchronize, or connect. That's my best explanation of it. " L explained, talking with his thumbnail in his mouth.

"And it does have some merit." Raito added "It would also explain why a person is not allowed to enter a house when it is already occupied. To avoid… 'congestion', as you put it."

"Indeed…" Ryuuzaki said, and, as he finished his sentence, Raito realized that, now that they were generally agreeing with each other about something…it felt rather strange. It felt as though they were back in the old days, teaming up against the moronic trio of Shouichirou, Matsuda and Mogi.

Ah, the 'good old days', Raito thought, rather cynically. They were rather fond memories, despite all their awkwardness and complete paranoia. The memories of the old days felt a bit like the memories that were being created now in Mu: so absolutely wrong…so very strange and incredibly separated from the existence of Kira, justice and Raito's dual personality, that they were almost…pleasant to remember.

"And let's not forget," Ryuuzaki continued "That 'Mu is the place where minds meet and meld'."

Raito's brain processes shut down, realizing he'd heard the Shinigami, Leeru, tell him the exact same thing when he'd first arrived in Mu. "Where did you hear that?" he asked, with a startlingly curt tone. Ryuuzaki grinned rather disturbingly. Raito was still not used to all this expressiveness from the detective's part.

"Isn't this the tagline they use for this place?" L asked, and stood up slowly, probably to try and stretch his legs a bit. "For Paris they say it's the city of fashion and lights. For Mu they say that minds meld. Isn't that so?"

Raito said nothing, just kept staring at the other. How was it that they always ended up having these conversations at night, just before going to sleep, he wondered? Probably because that was the only time they ever managed to stop walking and searching for the ones they were looking for. He didn't like having conversations at all, much less this kind, he thought begrudgingly.

"Wasn't that scene…a part of your…mind, then?" Ryuuzaki asked, using the word 'mind' when he obviously referred to 'Trial'. Raito started feeling increasingly uncomfortable, as though a noose was slowly being brought over his head.

As such, he did not feel like being discrete or coy about this. He had become fed up with all these metaphorical 'elisions'. "That's none of your business." He answered, trusting that this would permanently halt Ryuuzaki's hopeful probing.

But it seems L had been prepared for such an answer as well.

"Oh you made it my business, Raito-kun, when I saw myself being brutally murdered and eaten. Or perhaps you've forgotten that?"

"That wasn't me." In the heat of the moment, and trying to make Ryuuzaki stop his interrogation, Raito had inadvertently put his foot in it yet again, revealing more information.

"What was that?" Ryuuzaki asked, and sunk back down again, to sit in his customary position on the ground.

"That has never happened before. It …" Raito finished, then stopped himself from saying anything else, before he really regretted saying something he shouldn't. He was already regretting falling in L's trap and spilling information. He did not want to continue with this until it became really melodramatic, and he lost an inordinate amount of face.

After that, he sunk back down again, starting to untie his shoelaces. Ryuuzaki took the hint with surprising grace, and, since it was his turn to take care of the water tonight, stood up slowly and took hold of the bucket, moving away.

Raito took his shoes off and wiggled his toes contentedly, blissfully sinking them in the ground now that Ryuuzaki wasn't around to criticize him. He was loath to sink them in the soil, thinking about how inevitably dirty they would become, but on the other hand it felt so good, burying them, scratching them against the pebbles, warming them against-

The sound of the bucket being placed on the ground in front of him jarred Raito from his admittedly inane thoughts. Too bad… And just when he'd been falling asleep…

"What if we dump a towel in it?" Raito asked, his voice rather dull as he rolled his sleeves upward. Ryuuzaki mirrored the action.

"Won't work. As long as the water is intended for you, it will always transform to monstrous form, no matter how you handle it."

And yet, Raito thought in annoyance, as long as the water was intended for someone else, it could be touched without transforming to monstrous form. He really did not feel like being washed by Ryuuzaki at the moment. It was difficult to persevere constantly being around a person who one is trying to avoid.

L dipped his hands in the water and waited for Raito to tilt his face forward a bit. Then, the black haired man started to splatter water upwards, in a rather comical attempt to wet Raito's face. After the first few moments of having the front of his shirt and half of his hair covered by water, and his face still unwashed, Raito sighed. He was sick of this, among other things. If L continued his ineffectual antics, he'd extinguish the fire that Raito had spent so much time trying to light.

"This is stupid." The chestnut haired man finally concluded "Just…do it with your hand and get it over with."

Ryuuzaki's eyes flew to Raito's face, then back to the bucket. Had Raito not been feeling so tired, he'd have snickered at L's flabbergasted expression.

"How do you mean?" the detective asked, and Raito got the feeling he was procrastinating.

"Just…" Raito made a few sweeping motions over his cheeks to demonstrate, careful not to touch any of the water in his hair lest it transform to cockroaches.

Without another word, Ryuuzaki dipped his hands into the water again, this time turning them into a nest and gathering water in them. He pulled his hands out, and the chestnut haired man brought his face downward. Without much ado, the former detective helped his former suspect clean himself, surprisingly efficiently for someone who seemed incapable of even holding a spoon properly.

Then it was Raito's turn, of course, and he was sure to give as well as he got. He spent the first few minutes surreptitiously aiming water at Ryuuzaki's hair, until he made sure L looked as much like a haddock as possible. Then, finally, after gaining more than a few annoyed glares from the other, he did the job properly. But oh, truth be told, how he enjoyed this newfound concept of being able to irritate L.

At the end, he gave the bucket another little shove, making a spiral of water land on L's top, just for good measure. He considered it revenge for what L had done to him before, and did not care about it being childish, as long as it irritated Ryuuzaki a respectful amount.

Ryuuzaki, however, had apparently turned out to be rather easy to irritate just before going to sleep.

"That's very adolescent." The detective said, sending a rather brooding scowl at Kira's direction, as he tried to squeeze his top dry.

"Isn't it though?" Raito asked pleasantly, with the air of one who's referring to the weather, his voice the perfect tone of mischief as he kicked the bucket a bit more harshly, making a rather indecent amount of water splatter across the front of L's trousers, right across the detective's fly.

"You know that looks as though you-"

The bucket was kicked again, this time from L's side.

In retrospect, Raito thought, as he now looked at the embarrassing blotch of wetness on his own crotch, he should have remembered that Ryuuzaki's credo had always been _'an eye for an eye'_.

Raito decided he did not consider himself childish enough to start a splash-fight with the world's ex-greatest detective.

At least, that's what he considered.

He kicked the half-full bucket a little harder this time, and watched with glee as the right side of both L's top and trousers became stained in wetness. At the time, it did not occur to Raito that, combined with the dirt they were currently sitting on, the water on their clothes was an unbelievably bad idea. In fact, now in the afterlife, at this late date, perhaps it was the first time that Raito was truly aware of the phrase 'heedless of the consequences'. Who cared what would happen? In the end, no matter how bad it was, they'd always end up here again the next morning, wouldn't they?

Even though a part of him didn't want to admit it, yesterday's experience, actually seeing his Trial from the point of view of a third person…perhaps that had been the most crucial part of his liberation. And even though he did not understand the new parts that had been added to his trial…they felt…reasonable, somehow. They felt…like they fit there.

They felt like the answers to questions which had been torturing him for a very, very long time. And Ryuuzaki's presence…had fit in there too, like the piece of a puzzle – the thing that had been missing all along but is finally discovered. It had fit.

"Adolescent!" Ryuuzaki suddenly raised his voice, irritated and not trying to suppress it. Raito was internally jumping happily at having succeeded in annoying the other to this extent. And yet, contradicting his own scornful words, Ryuuzaki proceeded to kick the bucket in return again, causing the water to fly high enough so as to wet the side of Raito's face.

"That's cheating" Raito said, the seriousness of his deep male voice serving as a foil to the childishness of the matter. It was inconceivably wicked, even to himself, that he managed to retain such an adult, reserved face when dealing with completely inconsequential matters.

"There are rules?" Ryuuzaki asked in return, his slow drawl coming more as a croak than actual human speech. This usually meant that he was getting sleepy.

"Of course there are rules…" Raito said, yawning widely himself "I wish we had computers, though." He said, completely randomly. It was because he'd just remembered that the most time he'd ever spent with Ryuuzaki was in front of computers, which in turn led to him thinking about computers in general, and how much he missed them. "I made this program for voice alteration…you should have seen it." Raito said, his speech becoming slightly blurred from sleepiness, to the extent that he even became talkative, and the smugness buried deep inside him started to surface.

Well, after all, it was three in the morning. They'd walked until very late that night. He deserved a bit of credit, he thought, even if it was for a completely random thing that had happened so much time ago.

Ryuuzaki blinked a bit, probably labouring to stay awake and think it over. Finally, he spoke.

"Wasn't that _my _program?"

"No, I…" Raito yawned again "expanded it and things." It seemed that, when very tired or lazy, Raito's vocabulary tended to slip to its lowest possible form.

"Oh…" Ryuuzaki said. The fact that he didn't ask for clarification was proof that he was completely knackered. Curiously enough, however, Raito was too exhausted himself to notice this, since before either of them could speak again, he'd fallen asleep.

-

Raito hadn't considered that there could possibly be a change of seasons in Mu, until now. Strangely, the atmosphere really did seem to be getting colder and colder each day. He had noticed this by the sudden need to light fires at night in order to keep warm. But now, the cold was becoming pronounced even during the day, and they had to wear the tattered coats in order to walk.

It seemed as strange as always, seeing an article of clothing on L different than the customary. The blue coat did not suit the detective at all. And yet, it was rather an interesting change to watch.

This was not the first time Raito had wondered about the inner workings of this huge machine called 'time'. Was his sense of it correct? Where there days and nights, and months and years in Mu? Did time pass here as it did in the living world?

Did the seasons circulate?

They dragged their feet as they walked, and the sound of L's shoelaces scraping against the dirt had stopped bothering Raito after the first few minutes, since his own shoelaces had become untied as well. He didn't bother with tying them again, however, knowing they'd become untied in a matter of minutes. The sky was cloudy once more, its colour palette ranging from titanium white to silver grey. Raito was tired of this: the weather constantly looking as though it were about to rain, only to stay cloudy continuously. And it wasn't even a normal, ordinary cloudy sky; it was some kind of silver mist, the colour of glowing ice, shining above them like an interrogation light.

At night, it became pitch black, making the bizarre neon structures of the High Street glow brighter.

They walked for hours, not talking or exchanging any thoughts. Just walking together, or seeing things simultaneously was often enough to give them a feeling of company. And besides, there was only so much you could say to a person you've constantly been with for more than a month.

At certain times, Raito wondered if it would be better to part ways with Ryuuzaki. He didn't like the implications of staying with the same person for long periods of time. Besides, there had been certain times where he'd longed for his privacy. When with another person, there could be no such thing as privacy, talking to oneself for pleasure, or even just sitting and thinking alone. '_Yes,'_ Raito would think '_It would be best if he and I separate._' Then, when he'd finally decide it would be best to tell Ryuuzaki to leave him alone, Ryuuzaki would do something; like help Raito bathe; which would make Raito lose his resolve all over again.

"We've been going in circles." L's husky, trademark drawl suddenly rung, echoing Raito's deeper thoughts, and the Japanese man turned to look at the back of the other's head. He'd been too preoccupied with searching the crowd for any sign of Misa, so L's voice had jarred him back to reality. At first, absorbed in his thoughts, Raito had thought that L had been talking about Raito being indecisive about whether or not it would be best to part ways…but soon enough he realized that L was referring to a completely different subject, since the detective was looking around at the street.

Raito didn't say anything to respond, indicating that he was expecting L to justify what he'd just said. Ryuuzaki turned around, head lolling backward slightly as he widened his eyes, looking straight at Raito.

"We've passed by that building before." He stretched his right hand and pointed awkwardly with his index finger, making Raito wonder how it was possible for a person to be unable to do something as simple as even _point at something_ without seeming awkward. In any case, it wasn't L's mannerisms that drew his attention at this moment, but the actual place L had indicated.

"…" Raito didn't really want to admit that he didn't remember seeing the two-floor house before. If he did, he would also have to admit that he hadn't been paying much attention to their environment, and had been mostly daydreaming for the better part of the last few hours.

However, to Raito's credit, it was a fact that after a certain point, all the houses around them seemed to become formulaic, and the landscape never seemed to change much. After L turned his head around a few times, obviously scanning the area, the chestnut haired man, rubbing his irritated nose with his hand, spoke.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"I believe, Raito-kun, that under the circumstances, asking for directions is out of the question." L answered, with that intentionally innocent, childish tone he always used when trying to aggravate Raito on purpose. He was probably being funny, but it didn't make Raito feel much better.

"Perhaps we should try to calculate the distance as we walk." Raito offered, his seriousness conflicting with L's humourous uptake on the situation. Kira's eyes narrowed as he stared at the fleeting faces of passing pedestrians "Or use objects as signposts."

L didn't say anything, just turned his back to the other man and looked around. After a few moments, without speaking, they started walking again. It was an unspoken agreement that now they were both trying to measure the distance and detect any kind of signpost.

Finally, after about three quarters of a mile's worth of walking, they came upon a suspicious curb in the street. This probably was where they'd gotten misdirected before, Raito thought. He must have been completely lost in thought, in order not to notice. They paused for a bit and just stood there, in the middle of the street, occasionally being shoved to the side by the odd pedestrian.

Raito observed the slightly awkward angle of the street, the way that it curbed so steeply. He considered that, if they followed the street's flow, they probably would end up looping around the same direction, again. Thus, he turned to the left, where there seemed to be a narrower, more promising passageway. He started walking toward that direction, but suddenly felt a soft tug on his upper arm, holding him back.

"It's this way." Raito turned and told L, with a cursory glance at the detective's doubtful face.

"I don't think so…we went that way before." L answered, taking his hand away from Raito's body. Raito felt annoyed, suddenly, but didn't know if it was with himself – who hadn't been paying proper attention – or with Ryuuzaki – who was patronizing him again.

"But that twist in the street looks suspicious." Raito justified, motioning toward the curb in the road on their right.

"That's probably what we thought before." L answered, lifting his thumb to his mouth, and letting his eyes sink in Raito's. The auburn haired man stood there for a few minutes, looking at Ryuuzaki but not really seeing anything, since he had sunk in thought.

Finally, after a few minutes, Raito decided he truly would not trust himself, at this point, seeing as he really had been inattentive when they'd been walking before. Best listen to L's advice on this occasion, as loathe as Raito was to admit it.

And so, breaking eye contact with the other, Raito marched to the right, towards the awkwardly twisted turn of the street, which looked like it would lead the back to where they'd come from.

A few minutes later Ryuuzaki was not even trying to hide his smugness, as they realized that, despite its appearance, the strange street actually led not towards but away from a looping direction. After a few rabid turns, the road straightened out in front of them once more – clogged up with people, as always – and they were back on regular track.

The houses at the sides of the street had started to change a few days ago, turning from Victorian age to slightly more industrialized. It was still a Western setting, with absolutely no signs of influence by Asian architecture… and it was starting to anger Raito, slightly. It seemed this place was truly endless: as big and complex as the grand total of human history. And in the midst of it all, he knew that the possibility he actually find Misa was extremely low.

Later that evening, when they walked out of the High Street in search for a place to spend the night, they received an unpleasant surprise.

"No well?" Raito wondered aloud, not bothering to contain the tone of annoyance in his voice. L walked around with his hands buried in his trouser pockets, dragging his feet as he looked around. His black head seemed to bob around like a shadow, in the night.

"I think you'll find" the detective suddenly commented and turned to Raito "that there's something better than a well."

Raito, intrigued by this but too tired to bother with asking, walked forward to see what L was talking about. Ryuuzaki twisted around as well, pointing to somewhere on the far right.

"Finally." Raito simply said, feeling a bit better than before when he saw the water tap jutting out from the pipe system on the back of a nearby building. "We've returned to relative civilization."

"I wouldn't be too surprised, Raito-kun" L said using his long legs to hop on a nearby rock. He balanced himself on it, bending awkwardly to wrap his hands around his knees, reminiscent of the position of a track runner, waiting for the ignition signal…or that of a gargoyle on the Notre Dame, Raito thought with intentional cynicism. "It seems that living utilities in Mu go hand in hand with the theme of the buildings."

"But why would there be no taps in Victorian buildings? Didn't they have drain systems in Victorian times?" Raito asked with squinting eyes, proceeding to lean against a nearby wall, then slowly letting himself slide down, until he was sitting on the ground.

"Not in villages, they didn't." Ryuuzaki answered, his eyes sparking a bit with the starlight from above – starlight from dead stars, of course.

Raito didn't answer anything to that, just tilted his head backwards and closed his eyes, sighing with what could be considered blissful relaxation. He couldn't believe that they'd finally stopped walking – it was almost too good to be true.

They were so exhausted that night that they didn't bother with washing up before falling asleep. Rather, they would have bothered, only that they fell asleep before they could do or say anything about it.

However, it wasn't long before the biting cold started to become oppressive, and stitches of ice started to pierce through their skin. And as if the biting frost was not enough, cold, heavy water droplets soon started to hail from the sky.

The first time he woke up, Raito reflexively made a blind sweeping motion with his hands, as though trying to scoop up a blanket in order to cover himself. The realization that there was no warm shelter available was as unwelcome as it always is when one is extremely tired and longs to go back to sleep. Raito shook his head slightly, rubbing his palms up his arms in an effort to find some warmth. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to open them since that would imply acknowledging the problem. So he just kept them shut, and waited to fall back asleep, confident that the nuisance would soon stop.

But the hail was becoming stronger, and now that he'd awoken once it was nearly impossible to return to blissful ignorance. Muttering obscenities between his gritting teeth, he opened his eyes into slits. The first thing he saw, predictably, was the rapidly worsening mud on the ground. Then, he saw the outline of Ryuuzaki's white, bony fingers, clenched tightly on two jean-clad knees. Raito opened his eyes widely now, taking in the whole scene.

L's shoulders were shaking – his wet white shirt having become stuck on his skin and the blue coat rapidly becoming more and more of a wet burden than a shelter from the cold. From this angle, the detective's face was cast to complete shade beneath his black tresses, so Raito couldn't tell whether Ryuuzaki was asleep or awake. In any case, Raito looked down at his own body, realizing that the small stones of hail raining down on him had started becoming rather hurtful.

It took a few minutes of twisting and turning. Then, he crawled toward Ryuuzaki's silent silhouette, covering his face with his hands the entire time, in a largely futile attempt to protect himself from the upcoming storm.

He stretched his hand toward L's shoulder, as though to grab and shake it, but he obviously didn't have to, since Ryuuzaki bobbed his head forward suddenly, revealing his open eyes.

So he'd been awake, then.

Raito lost no time with explanations, opting to give the sky a meaningful glance, then turning back to L and standing up. The detective followed suit, remembering to grab the bucket. They were tempted to leave those slimy coats behind, since they were now completely useless, but decided to tow them along after all, in case they need them in the future.

Thus, they were left with nothing to cover themselves up with, no shelter and no comfort, under the merciless hail. L took the lead, walking toward the High Street – the place where the weather did not always correspond with that of the outside world of Mu, probably thinking that they may have a chance to find somewhere to spend the night over there.

But it seems luck was not their ally that night. Not only was the High Street not better than the outside world of Mu…it was possibly worse. The narrow street made the hail seem more severe than it actually was, and the fact that there were people running frantically trying to find shelter was creating a sense of chaos. People were conquering their fears and walking into buildings, just because they considered dealing with ghosts less troublesome than the horrible rain.

But Raito didn't have that choice…not as long as he was with L. If they ever tried to enter any kind of building together, he now knew, they would witness a repeat of what had happened last time – seeing parts of each other's worst nightmares. And Raito simply would not stand for that.

One nightmare in particular, Raito thought, as Sai's face flashed behind his eyelids. The chestnut haired man felt his stomach turn.

He would die – again – before he ever let Ryuuzaki see that scene. The humiliation was truly _that_ great. No one knew about what had happened in that Trial. No one except Raito. It was his secret. The most humiliating one that he'd been allowed to carry beyond the grave…and he was intent on keeping it that way. Because even though none of it had technically been real…it had all felt real enough to him, and he treated them as real events.

So much so, that they affected him, even now. Which, he supposed, had been the purpose of the Trial of Souls all along.

A small voice on the back of his mind started suggesting – again – that it might be better if he separated from Ryuuzaki and entered a house…but at the same time, he considered what it would be like for him if he was left without even the smallest of comforts that L's presence provided – what it would feel like to be in a house full of ghosts, in a Mu filled with hail…and all alone. Being isolated would be like a cherry in the cake of misery.

"Go back outside." L said, jarring Raito out of the trance he'd fallen into, as he'd been running after the other. The chestnut haired man shed another glance at the High Street around them, and then promptly decided that he should probably follow L's directions. There was nothing to be found here. Unless they wanted to enter one of the houses – which would certainly _not_ happen – then there was no point in staying around this place. It would only make things worse, seeing as the panicked people of the High Street were obstructing every passageway and blocking every small orifice in the wall that could be used as shelter.

So Raito lost no more time, reversing the direction of his pace and turning immediately back to where they came from. He trusted that Ryuuzaki was following him, even though he could barely see in this flurry of hail. He was trying to keep his eyes as narrow as possible, to prevent any small stones from hurting or blinding him. With one of the filthy coats over his head, he walked back across the road and to the small alleyway between two relatively nondescript buildings.

Moments later, the screaming of the hallucinations in the High Street stopped, the neon lights were distinguished, and Raito was back in the outside world of Mu again. Moving automatically, the first thing the man did was turn to his left to check if the other was there. When Raito saw the white outline of L's shirt, and the black bangs stuck on the alabaster nape, there was a strange sense of appeasement that overcame him, which he didn't recognize for what it was, but rather mistook for anxiety.

He tried to think of a solution to the problem: perhaps he could run into one of the houses – if they weren't all occupied by now – and quickly snatch a cape, or a coat…or even an umbrella, which could help them temporarily, just for tonight? Ryuuzaki could wait for him here, and then they could-

Just as Raito had lost himself in thought, he felt a tug on his arm, and let L pull him toward the wall of the closest building, in an effort to find what little cover from the hail they could, by utilizing the building's tall walls. Raito was berating himself for his sudden inadequacy and mental unpreparedness when, suddenly, L's voice echoed – not nearly as husky or as placated as it usually was.

"The huts." Ryuuzaki rigidly said, and Raito, trying to adhere his body as close to the wall as he could, did not bother with turning to look at the hunched man properly.

"What?" he simply asked, not paying attention, trying too intently to think of something in order to listen to Ryuuzaki's voice.

"The huts, Raito-kun." L moved his hand upwards, index finger jutting out prominently, pointing at the barely visible, dark hills in the distance. And each hill had a little hut on top – the small, wooden huts whence people arrived in Mu every day. L's movement distracted Raito and drew his attention, making L turn to look at him immediately.

The huts…

The _huts!_

Raito paused a bit, his mind freezing for a moment. He turned to look at L, with his lips slightly parted. L was looking at him, his black led eyes narrowed, water droplets running through his hair, wind beating on his white shirt. For once, his pointing index didn't seem awkward at all, but rather like a shining beacon, in the darkness.

-

The wooden door slammed behind them, with a resounding banging noise. It almost hit the back of Raito's head, as he quickly walked in the narrow room.

The walls were wooden, and the sound of hail beating against them echoed everywhere. The roof, a precarious thin layer above their heads, seemed to rattle with each particularly strong gust of wind. All in all, when walking inside the small wooden hut, at first Raito felt as though he were in the lower levels of a sinking ship.

There was only one window, which had no glass. In other words, it was a rectangular hole in the wall, not wide enough to let hail from the storm enter the inside of the hut. But it was the only source of light they had, and the flickering thunderlight that slithered through it was a blessing in this darkened, damp room.

The trek to this hut had been difficult, not to mention tedious. In order to come this far, they had been forced to walk under the storm for about half a mile, treading upwards on a hill. This in itself did not sound so bad…but it was, when taking account of all the time it took trying to bypass the various ruins and artifacts they found thrown around the world of Mu, and the fact that the more time they stayed under the hail, the more exhausted they became.

Perhaps the worst of it all had been nothing of those, but the fact that they hadn't even been sure if their plan would work. What if they weren't allowed to enter a random hut so casually? What if they were banned from entering the huts which had been used by other people to arrive in Mu? What if…after they entered the hut, they would have to be put through a hallucination similar to when they tried to enter any other building together? Raito didn't wish to think about it!

Naturally, this endless uncertainty about their eventuality was constantly keeping them strained, making their pain and attrition that much more unbearable.

But the hail was so strong, and the hill so difficult to conquer, that when they'd finally reached the top of the hut, Ryuuzaki didn't seem to give it a second thought – he grabbed the handle and pushed open the wooden door, diving into the shelter of the dark room before Raito could even pull him backwards to deter him. But as he saw L harmlessly walk inside, The various doubts instantaneously were wiped out of Raito's mind, and, suddenly, the narrow open door beckoning to him seemed like the golden gate of paradise, rather than the mossy, filthy thing it was.

Not sure what he was to expect, he closed the door behind him, letting it bang noisily. Then, he stood and surveyed his surroundings.

But there was nothing to observe, really. There was nothing in the room, save for the wooden floor beneath their feet, the wooden walls, the roof and the window. In other words, this couldn't really be considered a house at all. Just a small, wooden room. Perhaps a tent, or a pigsty would describe it much more accurately.

But at that moment, to Raito's mangled nerves and thrashed sense of space, it looked like the grandest palace.

Ryuuzaki took a few paces forward, and Raito saw the outline of the detective's drenched body against the light of the window. Why did this place have so much to do with water, he wondered idly, as he heard the disgusting squelching sound of his wet boots against the dry floor. It seems he'd lived in western houses so long that he'd forgotten his manners, he thought in irritation, as he bent down to take off his shoes and leave them at the entrance.

The detective saw what the other was doing and mirrored Raito's movements. He handed Raito his shoes, and the former suspect set both pairs on the inside of the door. They were both careful not to approach the window to much as they walked deeper in the room, lest they fall victim to the few pebbles of hail that managed to come through it. Raito stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to do with his limbs.

Now that he suddenly found himself in such a small, narrow space…it suddenly felt as though…he was in such close quarters with the other man. Besides, the blissful silence that had suddenly fallen around them came in sharp contrast with the noisy hail that had been deafening them until that moment.

Raito watched L for a few moments, as the former detective ambled around the room a bit aimlessly, and dared to wonder if, perhaps, Ryuuzaki may be feeling the same as he.

Suddenly, it felt…strange.

It was more the instantaneous realization that they were actually all alone. All alone, with not another human soul around them for miles. No one was watching them, no one was walking next to them, no one was smelling them or trying to talk to them. No one was trying to steal their food or get to the well before them. It was cold, but at least the roof provided some cover for the hail.

And there were no ghosts or apparitions popping around them.

In fact, it was all so…so…relaxed…that Raito didn't really know what to do with himself. As often happens at these times of intense exhaustion, sleep stubbornly refuses to present itself.

In order to occupy his hands, Raito started scrunching up his blazer and squeezing as much of the fabric as he could, in an attempt to dry it up. It took a few moments for Ryuuzaki to find a corner – the darkest corner in the small room – and seat himself comfortably in it. Then, he started mimicking Raito's action, drying up his clothes, but in a much slower pace and with much more fluid movements than the chestnut haired man.

Raito didn't know where to sit, strangely enough. It felt rather…awkward, being alone with Ryuuzaki's distinctive figure, here in this narrow space. He realized that, by standing like a stick in the spotlight of the room, he was hardly helping things. So he moved as well, heading for the wall opposite to the one Ryuuzaki was sitting at. Then, careful not to hurt himself accidentally or get a splinter from the wooden planks, Raito seated himself, leaning against the wall.

He stayed there, silently, for a few moments, listening to the tapping of the rain as it hit the roof. Then, he heard shuffling sounds, and turned to look at Ryuuzaki. For lack of a better word, the detective seemed…uncomfortable. He kept changing the position of his legs, as though unable to keep them settled calmly in one spot.

Raito looked away, not really knowing what to do or what to think.

Then after a few minutes, the wooden planks of the floor started creaking, and Raito raised his head to see L in the process of standing up. Raito considered asking what the other man was up to, but he didn't inquire after all, contenting himself to simply observing L's antics.

The black haired man walked forward, toward the closed door of the hut. His long fingers slowly stretched toward the handle of the door, closing around it.

"What are you doing?" Raito asked, in a very quiet voice, but his words were lost in a sea of noise, since L had just forcefully pulled the door inward, sending both their shoes flying haphazardly to different sides of the room. L did not answer, probably not having heard Raito's voice in the first place.

He just settled down at the doorstep, curling himself in the usual position. He leaned his back and head on one side of the door, folded his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, placing his feet on the opposite column of the door. Then he pulled one arm away from his knees and stretched it in front of him, setting it against the column, where his feet were pressed. He turned his head away from the inside of the hut, looking at the harsh rain.

Raito could feel the coldness in the room worsening, and he could see, from where he was sitting near the floor, that a few droplets from the rain outside had found their way into the hut. And yet, even so, he could not find it in himself to stop staring at the black outline of the back of L's head.

He stood up slowly. As the floorboards creaked from his movements, L turned around to look at him. The detective's face was completely cast into shade against the light blue-grey colour of the outside world. Even though he couldn't see L's eyes, however, Raito kept staring at that direction, watching the softness of the throat – what little of it was visible.

Raito took a couple of slow steps forward. L kept his face toward the other for a few more seconds. Then, when he was obviously sure Raito wasn't trying anything strange or threatening, he turned back to the rain, staying unperturbed in his position at the door.

Raito approached, until he was standing a few feet behind the other man. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest, and let the side of his body lean against the wall beside him. He stared at the rain from above L's head, watching the hail as it hit the ruined metallic machinery and the wrecked buildings of the world of Mu.

As he stood there, his eyes dipped downwards, staring at Ryuuzaki's nape for a few seconds. Then, he looked up again, wondering since when L had started appreciating open spaces connected to nature more than he did enclosed ones associated with computers.

And so they stayed silent like that. After a while, one of Ryuuzaki's legs uncurled, stretching next to the side of the door, outside of the hut's protection. But he didn't seem to care.

Raito lost track of the time they spent there, just standing and sitting, watching without speaking. Breathing in the blue light, as the stared at Mu.

-

It had been a few days after that time, and they were walking again, relatively slow paced. The rain had finally subsided, and they'd left the hut behind, going back into the streets of Mu and burying themselves into the crowded silence of it, which came in such sharp contrast with the comfortable quiet of the shack they had spent their night it.

Now, finally, the ghost of the black cathedral had started to fade in the far back, and the houses around them seemed to be changing decisively from Victorian cottages to modern-looking, useful and practical places.

Actually, they were currently discussing this gradual change in environment, not really minding the crowd around them. Raito noticed a few blonde heads, but, after a few failed attempts at finding her, he determined that if Misa was really looking for him, she could just as well come and find him for a change! He just couldn't be bothered any longer!

Suddenly, however, as Raito was commenting on the strange, over-the-top architecture of one of the buildings, Ryuuzaki froze in his tracks. Raito, who'd been walking forward, didn't realize this until a few moments later. He turned around to check where the other was, only to realize too late that Ryuuzaki was suddenly nowhere to be found.

"What…" he muttered quietly, his heart starting to beat a bit quicker. He keenly remembered that all too familiar feeling of a small child, lost in the supermarket, with mother nowhere to be found.

He hated comparing Ryuuzaki to a mother, though…he didn't want to think of Ryuuzaki as anything but collateral baggage on his long trek. But…where had he gone? Why hadn't he-

"Sir Wammy!" Raito suddenly heard from somewhere on his left, and turned around immediately.

The sight that greeted him was so unexpected, and at the same time so overwhelming, that, for some reason, he felt his insides freeze.

"Ryuuzaki!" the old man floated into Raito's vision. Raito watched, his stomach sinking unexplainably and his fists loosening at his sides. On the one hand he thought that perhaps he should take a few strides forward and greet Watari – the old man hadn't changed a bit since the last time, shiny spectacles and all. But on the other hand, he knew that not everyone was as accepting of his murderer status as L. He still remembered Matsuda's reaction and he didn't want to risk something similar happening with Whammy, especially if he wanted to be in the old man's good graces….But he would have to talk to Whammy, if he wanted to remain with Ryuuzaki…and if he didn't-

"I looked for you! Whammy!" L said, and Raito was shocked into speechlessness by the glee he detected in that voice. He felt his gut tighten, realizing that L's eyes were completely fixed on the old man, and he wasn't even looking at Raito, as though he wasn't there. The black orbs had light in them, and L's face had broken into a smile of such free and careless happiness, that Raito had honestly never seen before even in his own face.

Judging from Watari's seemingly overjoyed face, Raito expected them to start hugging at any moment, a thought which slightly disturbed him, for some reason. The least that L could do was-

"Ryuuzaki, where have you been?!" Watari said again, and Raito felt angry. The pressure in his head started intensifying, and L's positively gleeful face wasn't helping. Oh how he wanted to wipe the smile off, punch Ryuuzaki's irritatingly full lips until he couldn't smile no more, and then-

"I met Yagami on the way. You remember him, of course." L answered the geezer, nodding slightly.

"The boy with the Death Book, what? Wasn't he younger than you, Ryuuzaki?"

Raito was standing a few feet nearby, but already, by the way they seemed to have eyes only for each other, he could feel a horrible tightening, strangling feeling in his throat. And the fact that they were talking about him as though he wasn't there made him feel as though there was some kind of barrier, separating him from them. He made to walk forward, but, for some reason, he couldn't. Only then did he realize that, that-

_I can't move!!!!_

And only once had he felt this feeling before. '_This horrible feeling of being unable to move, or talk, or breathe…'_

"Yes, much younger." L answered nodding, and Raito's chest started actually hurting when he heard that tone of derision in Ryuuzaki's voice. '_I'm not younger that you anymore!!_' he wanted to shout, but the only thing he managed to do was strangle on a wad of black hair.

"He didn't really know what he was doing from the start that boy, what." Watari agreed "Doesn't really compare. But it's all right now, since I found you, Ryuuzaki."

And as Ryuuzaki opened his mouth to answer, a soft glow started to shine in their bodies, and they started to fade away.

Raito, immediately realizing what was happening, started shouting. He managed to pull the black hair away from his face, long enough to yell uncontrollably.

"No!". He tried to flail his arms, writhe, do anything in order to draw their attention. But it was no use – they were disintegrating. L's face was fading into wisps of vapour. "Ryuuzaki! NO!"

But before he realized what was happening, he heard a sound, some kind of disgusting screechy shuffling. He turned his eyes downwards, to the soil, only to see the black outline of a string of cockroaches making their way towards him. He turned back to Ryuuzaki, trying to call for help, but L was looking at Watari and Watari alone, his white shirt glowing like a beacon in the wind as it slowly turned to glowing mist. The old man was holding L's shoulders, like a mother hen protects its younglings from the storm.

Then, finally, with one great cry, Raito managed to shout:

"Ryuuzaki!"

And just at the last moment, as L's face was fading into nothingness, Ryuuzaki's eyes turned away from Watari, and fixed on Raito's face.

"Yagami-kun"

It was the voice of a monster. It sounded like a greeting and a condemnation at the same time. A mixture of confusion and perplexed acknowledgement, or perhaps a farewell. It was the voice of a person who doesn't much care.

Then the huge bell rings, a sound which doesn't belong to this world. Haunted, Raito realizes that the great Cathedral, which he'd previously thought was miles away from where he was standing, is now towering directly above him, its heavy black bells stretching upward, its belfry piercing into the clouds.

He feels the ground shake beneath him, and tries to move his legs, but they won't obey him. The only thing that he can move is his head. He turns it downward. His blood runs cold, as he sees where he's standing.

It is miles. It is the pit, and there are skyscrapers everywhere. The platform is shaking. Raito feels the disgusting taste of that retched batch of hair in his mouth. He starts coughing pathetically, trying to scream but unable to make even the smallest of sounds.

_Toukyo_

His heart is beating fast; everything is spinning. He can feel the pain all over again, before it even begins.

There is silence.

Then, the platform falls.

The fires, the mirrors, the orange sky above the HeadQuarters' building.

But he hasn't been here for so long – he's forgotten how to look for the signs of escape. The mirrors come and leave too fast. He doesn't manage to see anything in them – can't spot L's figure anywhere.

Of course.

L left with Watari… he disappeared and he wouldn't be here now for help-

The Hands appear.

Strangely, in the midst of the crowd, he can still see Sai's red eyes as they hunt him down, strip him. He's still screaming in his head.

They grab him. He screams, but no sound comes out, chocking as he is on the batch of hair. They haven't even started yet, and he's already screaming. It hurts. It hurts so much. The bells are deafening him, as are the sounds of a hundred thousand eating mouths, feeding on his own flesh.

And above them all, poised on that building, he can see the silhouette of two men, fighting. He recognizes them, one with a white glowing shirt, the other in a pinstripe suit. What are they fighting over….what are they…? Then, the next second, he can see not two but one man, the one in the clean, blue pinstripe suit. He can't understand why he can see so clearly from such distance, but he sees.

He sees the man's auburn hair, his monstrous twisted smile. The man is standing on the platform, staring down with his glowing red eyes, at Raito, who's being devoured. There is a batch of black hair right in front of him. There's black hair everywhere…it's his own hair! Raito's own hair! It's black.

His vision is more narrowed than usual – Raito realizes. He's not in his own body! He's in L's body! He's in L's body! He's been thrown off the building while in L's body!

He looks upward and sees Raito – himself – staring down at him.

It makes sense that L left with Watari, Raito thinks. It makes sense, since Raito killed him! L would never want-

"Demon!" Raito shouts in his mind, but doesn't understand who he's cursing, and why.

"Yagami-kun!"

"Shut up!!" he shouts, and in his mind, his voice is loud enough to wake the hounds of Hell. "Damn you! DAMN YOU!!" the Hands are tearing him, he can't feel anything, but he knows it's happening, and just knowing is enough.

"Yagami-kun! Wake up! You're having a nightmare"

"You monster! That's not me! You're playing games! You're – I hate-"

"Wake up!"

"_Something! You've done something_…_that words cannot describe!!!_" Sayu's voice echoes, and he feels something prickle-

"RAITO!!"

A sudden slap on the face is all it takes. Suddenly, from rolling and writhing beneath the imposing building, Raito went to rolling and writhing on the wooden floor of one of the small huts of Mu.

He opened his eyes and started breathing heavily, gulping down air greedily as he sat up. He felt suffocated, since the memory of the Hands was extremely fresh in his mind. He felt something lodged on his ribs and shoulders, so he flailed his body around, thinking the Hands were still attached on him. The weight of the objects retreated quickly, and then, as his eyes focused again, the first image that floated in his vision was of that damnable black hair.

"Get off." He whispered, feeling the bile climb to his throat. Ryuuzaki must have sensed the other's panic, since he didn't need to be told twice. Nevertheless, Raito pushed the other man away, making disgusted grimaces and shivering at the sight of the black hair. "Get off." He whispered again, not with hostility but with roughness. Ryuuzaki immediately pulled his hands away, and only then did Raito realize how close they had been before.

A few seconds later, after shooting upwards and crawling nearby, as far as he could from the other, he bent forward and vomited violently on the floor, emptying the already measly contents of his stomach on the wood.

When he was done, he panted pathetically, and realized his throat was scratchy enough to indicate he'd probably been screaming in his sleep a long time before he became sick. The reality of it all started to sink in, as he panted, shivering, in the frigid air of Mu. What had he screamed and what had L heard…he shuddered to wonder. Of all the things he didn't want L to know, this was the principal one.

Having awoken from one nightmare, he'd just entered a new one, called the nightmare of soiled pride.

Ryuuzaki probably respected the other's need for silence, since he didn't ask any questions. Raito appreciated this, although he said nothing to show his gratefulness. He stayed there, shivering, as the stench from his retching session started to seep in the floor and be emitted around them.

Without speaking, he stood up, slowly. His legs were shaking, his heart hammering in his chest. It had been too sudden, he tried to console himself, unable to restrain his trembling fingers. He hadn't been expecting it. Not saying a single word by means of explanation, he started walking toward the cabin door. Judging by the sky overhead, Raito thought that it must be early in the morning – it looked like the sun had already dawned. The rain seemed to have stopped, as there was the fresh smell of dew everywhere around the cabin.

Raito walked out, heading toward the plastic bucket, which was full of water from the rain last night.

In his frantic anxiety and tangled nerves, he had forgotten that he could not handle water on his own here in Mu. However, unfortunately, he was doomed to be reminded of this when he dipped his hand in the bucket, only to see the water transform into a pool of insects.

"Argh!!!" he shouted, having just experienced a nightmare and completely unable to control his reactions. He kicked the bucket away from his body, letting the insects spill over the ground. Only when they started moving towards him and crawling all over his shoes did he realize his mistake. He started shaking, trying to pry them off. This was just too-

A net of white fingers suddenly filled his vision, and he saw L grab the handle of the bucket quietly. Without paying Raito any mind, L started walking toward the small path that led to the High Street of Mu, where the water taps were located.

Without controlling his reactions, Raito pounced forward, grabbing L's elbow and barking: "Where are you going?"

L slowly turned to look at him. "To get some water."

Slowly, Raito's grip on the other man's elbow loosened, and Ryuuzaki resumed walking forward, leaving behind a completely mortified Raito, who was just coming back to his senses and realizing how childish he was being.

Raito stayed silent the whole time, stepping on the insects around him maniacally now that L wasn't looking, trying to squish them into silence. After that dream, some kind of primal instinct of fear had been awakened in him. Some kind of-

Ryuuzaki didn't say anything as he climbed up the path again, moving the newly filled bucket toward Raito. In the dull lighting of the dawn, everything around them had a blue tinted colour. They sat on the doorstep of the hut, barely wide enough for two grown men.

Ryuuzaki raised the bucket and let Raito rinse his mouth. Then he tipped the container toward the other's face. Raito knew that if he tried to wash himself, he'd end up with a handful of cockroaches. Instead, he opted to grab the edges of the bucket in order to steady himself, and proceeded to bury his head in the water. It was the best strategy he could come up with, in his state of mind.

He stayed submerged for a few seconds at a time, coming up gasping for air. By the fifth time he'd done it, he was beginning to feel dizzy, and L pulled the bucket away before the chestnut-haired man could try again.

Breathing erratically, Raito rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, burying his face in his palms. Next to him, Ryuuzaki proceeded to dump the bucket on the ground and stand up. Then, he retreated inside the cabin, to a place Raito could not – and did not care – to see.

After about an hour, when Raito had calmed down for the most part, he pulled his palms forward, stretching the skin on his face and letting them clasp on his nose. He breathed heavily, and the sweat beneath his black t-shirt started to dry. Turning to look at where L had gone, still in the mind-frame of a nightmare, Raito noticed that the detective was sitting directly diagonally to him, with his knees pulled to his chest. He playing with his big toes as he often did, letting them overlap, and had both palms on his knees. Raito meticulously avoided looking anywhere near the vicinity of L's own hair, lest he be sick again.

He was looking at Raito, just as a scientist would look at a particularly interesting specimen.

A stale taste overcame Raito's mouth, and his stomach convulsed as he wondered what kind of things he may have shouted in his sleep, and whether…whether…

"_Ryuuzaki!"_

…that name was one of them. Because if it was, then he might never, ever live it down.

That face….that damnable face that was looking at him now with such calculative wonder…he remembered exactly what it had looked like when L had been talking to Watari in that dream…That blissful expression of careless joy…Raito wondered how he could conjure in his dreams an expression he had never seen on Ryuuzaki's face in real life.

The chestnut haired man decided that caring about L's thought consumed too much of his daily time, so he proceeded to bury his head forward, letting his fingers run through his rapidly drying hair.

When he finally stood up, his legs still shaking at the joints, Ryuuzaki stood up as well. It went without saying that they would skip their morning shower today, and would not follow their usual routine.

In fact, Raito was thinking so intensely about what he had seen in his dream, that he wasn't even paying attention to what he was actually doing. He moved mechanically, putting one foot before the other and walking. L's footfalls from beside him sounded like they were coming from miles and miles away. And had he been able to admit it to himself, today he found it rather hard to believe that this was the real Ryuuzaki… that Ryuuzaki was really here. That this was not yet another hallucination.

That this was happening. The real thing.

He sometimes thought like that, but today it was ten times worse. And as L took care to gather their meager belongings, and shoved the coats in Raito's hands, Raito grabbed the clothes automatically, not realizing what he was doing.

"Am I…?" he started saying, but his voice turned into a choking squeak, so he stopped. Ryuuzaki turned towards him, watching him for a few moments. When it became clear that Raito would not continue, he turned to the opposite direction, walking forward, toward the High Street and away from the cabin that had served as their shelter for the night.

Raito rushed forward, constantly feeling as though, if he didn't move immediately, then he would never be permitted to walk again. And so he trod forward with abandon, not caring even to remember the soft blue light of last night, and the way he'd stayed there, staring at the rain with Ryuuzaki's for the better part of last night.

He didn't remember how lucky their recent discovery about the huts had been, nor that he'd decided that they'd stay in a hut every night from now on. He couldn't even feel how cold it was around him. In fact, Raito was so completely lost in his own thoughts, shivering periodically, that he didn't realize that a significant weight was missing from his trouser pocket.

He turned around to make sure that Ryuuzaki was walking behind him, on his left, as always. He met L's black eyes and looked away immediately. Then, with a sudden jolt, he remembered what had happened in his nightmare when Ryuuzaki and Watari had met.

'_I'll never let that happen' _in his nightmarish haze, Raito did not even realize what he was thinking, as he turned around to look at L again. L stared at him in response, cocking his eyebrows a bit at Raito's persistence. _'It will never happen! Even if he finds Watari…I won't…I won't let-'_ he repeated in his mind, clenching his jaw as he strode toward the High Street, his eyes fixed in an utterly determined gaze.

Completely distracted, Raito did not notice what L was doing behind his back as they walked. The detective, finally assured that the other would not turn around again, pulled his eyes away from the back of Raito's head and buried his palm in his pocket, pulling out the worn, brown leather wallet. He held it in his usual careful way, letting it hover in front of his face for a few seconds. Then he opened it, experienced hands slipping swiftly between the credit cards and bank notes, until he found the thing that could make all the difference in the world.

His eyes did not blink.

He closed it again, having seen what he was searching for.

Holding it in his dexterous palm once again, he took a few quick strides toward Raito, hand poised over the Japanese man's trousers.

"Watch where you're going!" Raito suddenly said in annoyance, since Ryuuzaki had just stumbled against him. He wasn't in the mood for L's clumsiness right now.

"Pardon." Ryuuzaki's voice floated lightly from the back, but Raito seemed to have already forgotten about the other man, lost in his thoughts and memories once more.

L stared at the back of Raito's head. His hand, with its long white fingers, tightened around the plastic handle of the bucket.

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**a/n: Oh-oh! Revelations galore! Crazy stuff happening!! so….wasted…must…eat….must…go…to…pub…with…friends….ughhhhhh….Hope I didn't make them awfully OOC. I did try my best to make them seem as though they have evolved, but without appearing completely OOC.**

**Also, I tried to make them act like men, in the sense that I try not to have them talk too much. Most of the real feelings are expressed through acts, not words. At least that's what I **_**tried **_**to do! I hope I succeeded!**

**I really like this chapter, for some reason! This romance thing is really getting to me! I try to contain myself, however, lest I make them seem completely OOC or completely over the top out of my own overexcitement!**

**Ps. What was your favourite scene? The shower, the fistfight, the wooden hut? Did you like how I involved Raito's trial in the whole thing? It was kind of a 'twelve monkeys' moment, if you know what I mean. The next time they enter a building, we're going to see L's trial!!**

**I love this, I love this! I'm so excited about it! I try to write whenever I can! Thank you all for reviewing – you don't know how happy you make me!**

**I'll see you all soon (I hope) **

**Ezan**


	15. Mukashi Mukashi

**Yes! Yes! I know you don't believe it, but its happening! This is it – the actual update! Sorry it took me so long, but I want everyone to know that I did not ignore your kind reviews, and your words of encouragement! Those reviews were actually the reason why I continued writing…**

**You see, what happened to me was this: at first I truly didn't have time to write. Then, when I did settle down to write, I got an awful writer's block…which lasted for quite a long time, as you may have guessed. Then, to shake off my block, I decided to read LxLight stories on to get inspired…and actually, I found SOOO many absolutely perfect stories, like "Coexistence is Boredom", "Chrome" and "Desideratum" (which everyone should go read immediately if they haven't already, which they have) that I got extremely depressed, because I felt that, despite my best efforts, TE is still completely OOC when compared to those stories…oh man…**

**But thankfully, now, I got over my pessimistic thoughts, and I'm back on track. I now know exactly where this story is going, and I know how to take it there (god, I sound like one of those self-help book authors)!! So I'd like to thank everyone who waited patiently for this update, and assure you, in all honesty, that it's not going to happen again. At least not until True Elision is finished.**

**So this is it. What you're about to witness here is the actual key-chapter. The place where we switch from confusion/awkwardness to confusion/romance. I don't think I made them OOC. At least, even if they do seem OOC at this point, I suggest that you try to remember the entire Trial ordeal, and the fact that both Raito and L have, supposedly, changed. They've become more open and susceptible to different ideas. There are many moments where I've intentionally tried to fool the reader into thinking that they are OOC, only to prove, later on, that they're not OOC after all. So if you do reach one of these moments, don't be like me and abandon the story…it's actually done on purpose.**

**Well, I really do hope you like this. Actually, being as it is the first update after a very long time, I'm a bit jittery. The fact that this is really my first attempt at DN romance is not helping…ugh…**

**Sorry for the long a/n, but I couldn't help it. And now, for my traditional phrase: please don't hate me for making stoopid spelling mistakes, miswriting 'their' for 'they're', and having repetitive vocabulary. To tell you that I'm editing this chapter now would be a lie…actually, I'm writing the next chapter. But when I finish the whole story, I WILL revise it, so there. It'll all be spelled perfectly soon enough.**

**Disclaimer: yeah, so…I don't own DN. But Mu is MINE, you hear? MINE, MINE, MINE!!!!**

**(ok, I'm cool now)**

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**Once Upon a Time**

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It was always busy during this time of the day, Raito thought, queuing up in front of the tree. Everyone would always wait until just after the frigid dead sun had reached its ultimate peak, before they began searching for their lunch.

Raito blinked slowly, bringing his hand to massage the sides of his nose, staring unsteadily at the blurry outline of Ryuuzaki's white shirt. L, who was standing right in front of him, had one of his hands in a pocket, and the other in his mouth. Raito shook the yellow bucket he was holding a bit, as though to complain non-verbally about Ryuuzaki making him carry it all day long.

But L, in true fashion, was completely unmoved by this futile attempt at indirect nagging. Unfortunately, the more time he spent with this man, the more Raito had started to realize that this situation reminded him all too well of when he'd been cuffed to L. The only difference with back then was that now he was not willing to put up with each of Ryuuzaki's senseless whims. He now had his memories…and if he wanted, he could leave at any moment…

So why didn't he…?

As though to tease him, a vision of that dream he'd had a few nights ago appeared in front of his mind's eye. The notion of L finding Watari…Raito would be left completely alone. At least Ryuuzaki, regardless of how irritating on a personal level, was a form of camaraderie...

They were using each other, and they both knew that they were doing it. If they didn't have this meaningless brain stimulation to cling to, then what would they have?

Raito lethargically took a step forward, as the queue shortened once more. Only three more people to go, and he and L would finally get their lunch. From the front, L scratched the back of his head like a monkey, and Raito found that he couldn't even muster up significant annoyance at the other's pronounced shagginess.

Real friends? What was that? Raito had never experienced that in all his life and, to be honest, he didn't really believe it existed. He'd never wanted to become involved in the kind of self-compromise necessary for a relationship like that. Technically speaking, the closest he'd ever come to having a friend was his relationship with Ryuuku: a kind of non-obtrusive, non-imperative non-commitment, in which neither party was obliged neither to support nor condemn the other.

Of course, Ryuuku had broken the rules of their 'friendship' by killing Raito…but then again…Raito had never really intended to trust in Ryuuku; it had been a moment of extreme desperation which had forced him to.

In retrospect, he could see why Ryuuku would kill _him_ instead of all the others. Kira's New World would have been extremely boring for a Shinigami of that sort. Ryuuku wanted conflict and drama…and the values that Kira's New World promised were quite the opposite.

"_Finally_" Raito caustically thought, seeing the zit-faced Westerner in front of them finally move away from the tree. Raito walked along to stand at L's side, and together they stared upward, at the massive plant. Unfortunately, all the easily reachable fruits had been already taken, by now.

"It's too high." Ryuuzaki stated the obvious, his black eyes unblinking and his expression mostly lukewarm, if not slightly annoyed. "Raito-kun; I'll support you." The former detective offered, motioning with his spider-web fingers toward the other man.

Moving slightly away, Raito looked at the hunched creature a bit suspiciously "Why should I climb? You're lighter…probably."

Ryuuzaki didn't miss a beat. "I don't trust you to hold me up."

Raito suppressed his urge to bash the other's face in with a fictional mullet. "I wouldn't have anything to gain by-"

But Raito was interrupted by a sharp tap on the shoulder. Both he and Ryuuzaki turned around, distracted from their verbal spar, to look at the people behind them. Seeing their aggravated faces, which all had identical hostile expressions of 'get on with it', the two men realized that they might find themselves completely without supplies unless they hurried. Raito gritted his teeth, making a muscle pump in his jaw. How he hated being told what to do…

Trying to preserve the last shreds of his pride, he looked meaningfully at L, who immediately shaped his hands in a nest and leaned toward Raito.

Without another word, but making sure that his eyes were drilling holes into L's – and everyone else's – pallid faces, he used the bastard's hands to hoist himself upwards. When trying to reach their doubtlessly disgusting lunch, however, he still fought to stay as respectable as possible. It wouldn't do if they thought they could boss him around.

Rather the opposite, since he was Kira.

But he wasn't much of a Kira anymore though…was he?

More than anything – even more than L – he hated this feeling.

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"In the summer of my eleventh year, Watari took me to his country house. It was quiet there, since it was located right next to the cemetery." L stated with a completely even voice, his ebony bangs falling like curtains over his wide eyes, which were locked on Raito's.

The chestnut haired man stared at the other just as intensely. With his shriveled apple held loosely near his mouth, he let his auburn eyes scan over Ryuuzaki's face like searchlights, checking for any kind of telltale twitch. But of course, a visual inconsistency was too much to ask for. It was a fool's errand to expect a slip from the world's greatest detective.

A few moments of intense staring ensued, during which Raito's eyes progressively became beadier and narrower as they bored suspiciously into L's unperturbed expression. Raito wondered if the sound of his gritting teeth was audible to the outside world.

Finally, as the tension was brought to a zenith, the chestnut haired man opened his mouth, his nerves almost snapping.

"True." He declared, still staring at Ryuuzaki's pupils in the largely futile effort to understand whether or not they were dilated. For a few moments, L kept silent, and the other man could feel the tendons in his forearms actually strain. When had he gotten so absorbed in it? It was just a stupid game, for goodness' sake!

Then, finally breaking the eye contact, L brought his own fruit to his lips, taking a lusty bite and shrugging slightly. "Correct" he muttered, his mouth still stuffed with the disgustingly saccharine food, pieces of which went flying at Raito's shirt as the detective spoke. But the Japanese man, by now completely accustomed to these rude gestures, did not even bother taking note of this seemingly inherent crudeness, ecstatic as he was over having finally won.

'_HA!_' he thought gleefully, and found it impossible conceal the grin on his face. He internally praised himself for his extraordinary insight. Of course L had been telling the truth. Strangely enough, Ryuuzaki told the truth more often than not, since he knew it would not be believed. Raito should have figured this out much earlier, considering all the time he'd spent watching the other man.

"Next" Raito said rather animatedly, still grinning lightly as he chewed on the admittedly repulsive pap in his hand. Now that he'd started winning, he wanted to play some more. He wrapped an elbow around one knee and stretched the other leg out, uncaring of the dirt which would undoubtedly cover it when he'd stand up in a few minutes. It seems that L's habits might be rubbing off of him more than he'd thought they would… In any case, interestingly enough, Raito didn't seem too preoccupied with this thought, riveted as he was by their little lunchtime-game. He was riveted by any chance to mentally pummel L to the ground. A few pedestrians, who'd been walking by, grunted at Raito's unfolded limb, since it obstructed their way. Raito ignored them, while watching Ryuuzaki staring off at the distance, obviously considering what he might say next.

"Come on, think hard." Raito said with a slightly teasing tone, thinking that if he mocked L, maybe the detective would stop stalling. It was quite…pleasant…to do this kind of thing during lunch. It helped them forget what they were eating…Raito repeated this to himself, as he impatiently waited for the detective to think up a good statement.

Some of the people walking in the wide street turned to look at the two men, who were huddled at the side of the road. Raito was unpleasantly reminded of the fact that they could all hear what Ryuuzaki and he were saying, seeing as the silence around them was magnified and no one else in the street was speaking. He meticulously ignored the surreptitious looks of the strangers, who tried to seem uninterested when they were obviously quite intrigued – even jealous, perhaps – of these two youngsters able to communicate so freely with each other.

"Fine" Ryuuzaki's voice sliced smoothly through Raito's progressively darker thoughts, causing the auburn-haired man to turn around again, his eyes narrowing as he immediately entered his suspicious mode. He nodded a bit, to indicate he was listening, and Ryuuzaki proceeded to make a show of shuffling his legs around, supposedly to arrange his insect-like physique in a more comfortable position.

Raito restrained himself from rolling his eyes. How typical of the ex-detective to try and irritate a person once he knew had said person's full attention. But the Japanese man, a veteran of this little game, blinked slowly a couple of times, patiently waiting for L to start talking. He knew that L was trying, via these little tricks, however insignificant they may be, to make him lose his concentration and, consequently, the game. But Raito, an equal master of psychological warfare, was determined not to let any action of the opponent's get to him.

He was so determined not to give into L's tricks, in fact, that he kept thinking about it during a whole minute and a half, while L shuffled around. After that, once Ryuuzaki had finally arranged himself in his customary occult position, Raito felt assured that he hadn't allowed his concentration to lapse at all.

In the meantime, L set his black eyes on Raito's face with practiced cunning, and started talking. Raito's expression settled immediately, his shoulders leaning slightly toward the other as he focused all his attention on judging L's countenance.

"As I'm sure I've told you before, I used to be the British Junior Champion for three consecutive years. On the fourth year I competed in the Senior Tournament. The reason why I was defeated was because I stumbled on my shoelaces in the final round. The year after that, I left England."

Ooooh… this was a good one! It sounded too ridiculous to be true, of course…but knowing L, this complete implausibility was what he was betting on. Raito did not even blink his eyes, lest he miss some small detail of L's face which could betray the nature of the statement.

Completely calmly, Ryuuzaki took a pronounced bite from his fruit, his eyes never leaving Raito's as he chewed slowly, making exaggerated motions with his jaw, in a show of corny, non-verbal challenge.

Raito stared carefully at the other's face, to the extent that one would think they were debating matters of life and death instead of just playing a silly game to pass the time. But however trite their pastime, Raito was becoming quite enthusiastic about it. Not having had the chance at this much mental stimulus since…well, since the last time he'd talked to L, it was only natural that he'd be excited about practicing his insightfulness. Behind his rigid exterior, his mind was now racing in the way it had been during the early stages of the Kira case, trying to decipher not only Ryuuzaki's words, but his thoughts.

L's statement was ambiguous, of course, which was the whole point.

But Raito wouldn't put it beyond L to lose a tennis tournament because of something as idiotic as not tying his shoelaces properly…

Then again, L did hate to lose. Would he really have let his shoelaces get between himself and his victory? But it wasn't really a question of victory, was there? L had already won the tournament – or a closely related tournament – three times. Raito knew that L's character was very much like his own in this factor: once L felt like he'd conquered something, he became immediately disinterested in it…which was probably why he'd always enjoyed working on particularly 'unsolvable' cases. If L really had won the tennis tournament repeatedly then, probably, just like Raito himself, he wouldn't have much cared to win again.

The problem with this statement of L's was that it was so long. It had many clauses. For example, it might be true that L had lost because of stumbling on his laces, but false that he was the champion for three years. Or, it could all be true, except for the fact that he left England the next year. Even if one small clause of the statement was untrue, then the entire thing would be falsified.

Raito considered telling Ryuuzaki that this situation was unfair and that he should shorten the statement, but he'd be damned if he ever showed L any weakness of his. No, Raito would win. He would win against the odds!

He tried to break L's proclamation to pieces and analyze it, which was relatively easy to do. He remembered that L had told him, all those years ago, that he'd lived in England for five years. If Raito took L's current words at face value, that would mean that L had spent the first four of those five years getting involved with tennis in England. Seeing as good tennis technique is a manual ability, it requires consistent practice before it can yield any kind of result.

Therefore, if Raito took L's statement to be true, then that would mean that in the five years L had spent in England, at least four of them were spent in an environment where he could enjoy routine tennis practice…which would rule out the possibility that he was investigating any serious detective cases while in England. Given Raito's knowledge of L having stayed in some kind of orphanage, along with Near and Mello, this theory was plausible. In other words, during the time L had spent in the orphanage – doing Kira knows what – he might have spent time honing his tennis skills as well. Then, when he finished his 'detective' education, he left England and the tennis championships behind.

Yes, it had merit.

…but was it true?

It sounded false, if only because of the excess information in it. All the things L had said… it was unlikely that they were all flawless. Then again, knowing L, he would have predicted that Raito would think his statement was false if he added extra information to it.

Quite possibly, it was all true.

Or, it was all false…

…

Raito narrowed his eyes, internally sighing at himself. This wasn't working. His thought process was going around in circles. He wasn't reaching any conclusions. He decided that he might try the conventional method, which was looking persistently into the opponent's eyes and waiting for the detective to crack.

This method worked on most normal humans, at least, Raito thought begrudgingly.

It didn't take more than thirty seconds for Raito's annoyance to be justified. L wasn't cracking. He didn't even look perturbed. After a while, the black haired bastard even had the gall to make a show out of muttering, with overt disapproval "What's taking Raito-kun so long?", displaying the fact that he knew Raito didn't know the answer.

Finally, unable to wait any longer from pure curiosity if not anything else, Raito decisively took the plunge, reminding himself that it was just a game:

"True." he gave his verdict, and waited with bated breath – although he'd never admit it to himself – to see the fruits of his vigorous mental efforts.

Lo how the mighty have fallen.

From Death Notes to shoelaces. Where is this world headed?

L did not react, simply proceeding to bring his food forward again, biting it peacefully. Raito was sure that he must have gritted his teeth to white powder by now. It took all of his willpower to stop his fingers from tapping against his knees, and even that could prevent the twitch in his eyebrow. He was right! He knew it had been true! It was true; he'd won. Why else would Ryuuzaki be so reluctant to tell him if he'd won or not, except to torture him intentionally…the bastard.

Obviously taking mercy on him, L finally – _at long last –_ turned his head upwards, thick black tresses kneading the base of his neck. Then, as he was staring at the chestnut haired man, he slowly and very deliberately brought his eyelids down in a prolonged blink. Raito tightened his jaw in marginally suppressed fury, understanding what the detective was saying.

Wrong_again_?

But he'd been so sure this time! Hadn't he…? Why had his victory been so short-lived!!

Wait! Maybe L was lying, and he just didn't want to admit that Raito had won…Maybe-

"Again!" Raito commanded, swinging his fruit to his lips and hearing the satisfying crunching sound, accompanied by the sensation of sickly juice bleeding into his mouth. If he didn't win this, then he wouldn't be called 'Raito'! His eyes never left the 'vegetable', as he'd taken to privately calling Ryuuzaki in his thoughts. Such was his excitement about this whole thing, that he didn't even realize he had shuffled his body. Now he was sitting cross-legged on the dirt, with his head leaning forward and his ears stretched as far as they could go, unconsciously poised to hear L's next declaration.

In the meantime, Ryuuzaki, who'd used their small lapse in intensity to take a bite off his food, resumed looking at Raito, his eyes not having lost even a smidge of their sharp focus.

"Since Raito-kun lost, it is now my turn." L reminded, and, before Raito could control himself, he was actually making his eyes skip around in a show of annoyance. It was fun when L was the one being interrogated, he thought in unabashed immaturity…but why did Raito have to do it as well?

Then, as though horrified at his own lack of restraint, he suppressed his expression again into a calm mask of vague displeasure. It was too late to hide it now, of course, but…but, if only for the sake of his sanity, Raito still tried to feel like he was mostly in control of his own face.

"Very well, though I fail to see the point of this. You've already researched my entire life." Raito almost spat, but cleverly brought the half-eaten fruit to his mouth in time to disguise the frustrated twist of his lips into disgust for the terrible meal. Thank God that this fruit was taking him ages to finish, or else his facial vulnerability would have been left uncovered. This of course, did not alter the fact that the bloody thing tasted so horrible that Raito wanted to chuck it away, but it was a factor to consider. What was wrong with him, anyway? He should compose himself properly, he reminded himself.

L was not fazed, of course, and he did not make it easier for Raito by pulling his eyes away. He just sat there, perched like a hawk on a tree branch, his face unnervingly close to Raito's and his eyes completely wide, in that familiar mocking way they had. Alarm bells started ringing in the Japanese man's mind, since he knew from experience that this particular expression of L's never signified anything good for Raito's self-respect.

"Surely there must be something which couldn't possibly have been documented, Raito-kun." L patronized, and Raito was keenly reminded that, of all of Ryuuzaki's vocal tones, this was the one he despised the most. It was this most unnerving capability that the detective had always had: being very insulting while sounding very polite. Raito keenly remembered when L had kept analyzing the Yotsuba Corp's issues to Matsuda, using the same tone one would have used to instruct a three-year-old on how to use a potty.

In other words, L did occasionally like to treat Raito like an idiot. And because the investigator could always hide it so well in front of the other members of the team, Raito could never openly become annoyed at him, lest he risk being deemed "hot-headed" or "immature".

"I'm not going to talk to you about my personal issues." Raito proclaimed with clear haughtiness, and sniffed slightly as he took another bite of fruit. But just as the youth was reveling at finally having had the last word, L regretfully opened his mouth again.

"I doubt there _are_ any." The lethargic baritone echoed, and the auburn haired man almost started seeing red and white lights dancing in front of his eyes. He closed his jaw sharply as a reflex, causing his teeth to sink rather maliciously into the tissue of the fruit. Well, it seems that, during the course of a particularly infuriating conversation, he could finally learn to appreciate this food, he sarcastically thought.

Procrastinating shamelessly, he was now trying to make sure he'd be completely composed when he'd speak again. This was facilitated upon seeing the serene calmness on L's face, which reminded Raito of his antagonistic streak and made him want to surpass the other in terms of expressionlessness. How could he allow Ryuuzaki to verbally overcome him…again? It was so obvious that L was baiting him, and treating the younger man's anger as a game. Unfortunately, it was in the young Yagami's character to become even angrier upon realizing he was being played for a fool.

But he wouldn't let L have his way…he'd make sure...if L wanted to insult him, then Raito would hurt him in return. Because after all, however reluctant to show it, Ryuuzaki was also human, and could also be affected by emotions. And of course, the overpowering emotion of defeat that L must have felt upon being killed…_L must despise that most of all. L must have sunk in darkness as well…_

But as he was thinking all this, Raito had unconsciously fallen into a trance, and was not aware of the expression on his own face.

…_he must have hurt a lot after having lost_, Raito thought. What if, to cast his revenge, Raito started baiting Ryuuzaki in return, by telling him about things that had happened after his death? What if he made Ryuuzaki jealous…reminded him of his defeat…? That would be cruel…it would be cruel, but so satisfa-

"Raito-kun should stop. Making faces at the opponent is both immature and impolite." A voice suddenly rang, jarring Raito from his trance. The auburn haired man felt the tense muscles of his face, and gradually started to loosen them, only now realizing that they'd been tightened. It seemed that, without realizing it, as he'd sat there getting lost in his own little dark private world, he'd started…he'd started…

…smiling.

And not just any smile, either.

The auburn haired man dropped his eyes, staring off into the distance, trying to look at anything but L. He couldn't believe himself! Had the Trial turned him to a complete idiot? How could he have lost control like that!? This was the first time this had ever happened to him! His nose had been seven inches from Ryuuzaki's, and he'd been smiling at the other man like…like…_that_! And even though it had been fine showing it to L when the detective had been dying…what was Raito thinking doing it now?!

This particular smile, along with an arsenal of related facial expressions, had always been conserved for the most private of moments. The last time he'd indulged in one, he'd been standing in front of Near, straining to stand with his one leg.

But now…now…

Well it was all L's fault, anyway! L was the one who'd made him start having this kind of vengeful thoughts again, anyway! God, how annoying Ryuuzaki was – how utterly exasperating. If only Raito could find it in himself to push the detective away, part ways with him…each of them would go their merry way. It would be fantastic…

So why couldn't Raito do it? Why couldn't he push L away, never to see him again…?

"Very well." Raito started, forcing himself to look upwards. He'd had this inner conversation with himself time and time again over the last few weeks, and he'd reached absolutely no conclusion. He didn't know why he seemed so hell-bent on staying with L. He didn't understand himself. Probably because of the loneliness that had overcome him in Mu-

'_but this isn't right! I'm not affected by things like loneliness, or negativity! I'm not weak…I'm above all those things! A Trickster!_'

But yet, here he was. And despite the fact that he kept telling himself that he should '_throw away anything he doesn't need'_ and that '_this kind of emotion can't touch this soul'_, the words sounded empty in his own mind. He'd said the same things when he was alive; true enough…the only difference was that, back then…he'd actually believed them too.

Angry more at himself than Ryuuzaki now, he was staring blankly at the ground between L's dirty white trainers and his own worn leather shoes. That small patch of ground…why couldn't he be a patch of ground too? Life would be so much easier and simpler…like it had been with the Death Note. There would be no philosophical treks, no moral predicaments. Perhaps this was part of why he'd appreciated the simplicity of the Death Note so much.

He'd lived greatness…he'd lived magnificence. Even if Kira's ideas were a lie, in the end his life had been exceptional, hadn't it…?

Unconsciously seeking for reassurance, he turned upwards, but the only thing he met was L's expectant gaze. The detective had lodged a finger in his mouth, and was pushing at his cheek from the inside.

Raito looked at him.

If not for himself, he thought, what about this man? Who knows what kind of luxuries L had enjoyed in America, or wherever else it was he'd lived. If he hadn't foolishly decided to overtake Kira, he would probably be rich and fat now. Most importantly, he'd still be alive.

But, regardless of these overwhelming thoughts, the mere sight of L's ridiculously familiar face, and all the memories it was associated with – memories of light hearted annoyance and passionate battles, mostly – were enough to make Raito think he understood why he wanted to stay near Ryuuzaki.

Having calmed down a bit, he decided that it would indeed be petty – not to mention unwise – to talk to L about the things that had happened after his death. Instead, Raito became resolved to keep the mood light. Because, he reminded himself, if he started bringing serious subjects to the forefront – in other words, if he started doing what L was trying to make him do – then he'd lose all the leverage he had. If he gave L all the information that he was so curious to discover – namely, how Kira had finally been defeated – then L might stop being interested in Raito altogether. Who knows if L would still want to stick with Raito if he took everything Raito had to offer…

Besides, if he wanted to be honest with himself, no matter how much he wanted to talk about it with Ryuuzaki, Raito didn't think his pride would be able to withstand a conversation like that. Until now, all such 'conversations' had been short lived, and they usually ended in a fight. But if Raito was forced to discuss seriously with L, in an adult conversation…then he might end up agreeing with L about Kira's shortcomings…

And that was something his pride could not withstand. He could think it, but he didn't allow himself to talk of it…and especially not to this man.

So, deciding to follow the next best course of action, Raito thought he might enjoy teasing the detective for the remainder of their meal. If he played his cards right, he might even gain some extra bit of information about the 'L Mystery' where he wasn't expecting it. It was always refreshing to have this kind of repartee. And besides, Ryuuzaki seemed to be in an especially chatty mood today.

So, careful to keep his maniacal grin back this time, Raito uttered the next few words, careful to keep his voice completely level and his eyes fixed on L's.

"When I was seven and Sayu was five years old, my mother used to take us to piano lessons every Thursday…but I hated it. What I really wanted was to learn how to play the guitar and get a tattoo." Raito developed this slightly hilarious concept with a severely somber face, careful not to let his inflection change at all during the announcement.

Ryuuzaki, on his part, stared at him steadily with an inquiring gaze, as though asking if that was all. When Raito nodded in finality, the detective leaned forward to rest his chin on his knee, bringing his thumb to his mouth – a signal that his mind was starting to initialize.

Raito neutralized his entire face, deadpanning it to the point of ridiculousness. As Ryuuzaki cryptically examined him, Raito inevitably started wondering if he was doing the right thing. Perhaps remaining so expressionless would indicate nervousness…? Without realizing it, Raito was internally hyperventilating. What if Ryuuzaki saw through his façade? What was L looking for? Why was L-

"If Raito-kun had really wanted to play the guitar, would he have asked for it?" Ryuuzaki asked, his eyes narrowed. Raito's heart, which had been thundering in his chest, impossibly started beating faster. What was Ryuuzaki trying to do? Was this a test to distract him? But distract him from what? _For_ what?

"Now, now, L…you're only allowed one statement." Raito said with a patronizing tone, marveling at his own ability to keep his voice so calm, when calmness was the complete opposite of what he was truly feeling.

"Oh, don't mind me…I was only thinking aloud." L waved his hand slightly in a show of mock goofiness, and Raito didn't manage to stop himself from gritting his teeth again. The bastard was baiting him yet again! Everyone knew that if there was one thing that L did not do, it was thinking aloud. If he had, then he might have saved Raito a whole lot of premature heart palpitations, and perhaps a couple of pages from the Death Note as well.

As it was, however, in yet another show of unabashed manipulative intent, Ryuuzaki was trying to confuse Raito into revealing more than he'd bargained for. With all the exaggerated meticulousness that had made him so popular in his secondary school, Raito trained his face into a mask of calmness, with a fake friendly smile etched across it. Such niceties, of course, would not fool Ryuuzaki, who was more masterful in recognizing them than perhaps Raito himself.

Oh, if only they were back on Earth again! Back then, before his Trial, Raito had been so much more capable of concealing his emotions at any given time…

Therefore, as Raito had focused all his concentration on achieving that ideal nonchalance, he was shocked – and aggravated – to hear the unrushed calmness of that voice.

"It's true, of course." The baritone sliced effortlessly across Raito's thoughts, with the speed and precision of a Japanese blade. It was the addition of that small 'of course' in the sentence, which gave the phrase an all too different meaning. It was as though Ryuuzaki was implying that it wasn't even a challenge for him to decipher Raito's brain. As though Raito was less intelli-

No, better not think about it. If the young Yagami started pondering about all the reasons why Ryuuzaki would make an excellent stew, then he'd probably nail the detective on a stick and barbecue him right then and there.

But, of course, if L wanted a fight, then he'd have one. Raito would not let him get away with that kind of arrogance so easily.

"Wrong, Ryuuzaki. It's false." Raito said, and the grin on his face did not reach his eyes.

L did not respond immediately, preferring to let his eyes sink a bit more in Raito's, watching him like a cat sitting right in front of the hole on the wall, waiting for the mouse to peek outside.

"Oh?" Ryuuzaki finally said with his drawling voice deliberately slow. "Intriguing. What kind of tattoo was Raito-kun thinking of having?" he asked, reverting to his age-old investigation tactics. _'If unable to disprove a lie, search for ways to make the liar perpetuate it. Eventually, he will betray himself.'_

Raito was quite experienced in this game as well, and had proved many times that he knew how to combat it. The only difference between now and the time they'd been standing across from each other, right after Misa's cellphone had rung in L's hands, is that back then the stakes were life and death, whilst now they were…Mu.

And Raito hated L all the more for reminding him.

He hated L with a passion for being this kind of sadist…and he'd had just enough frustration and teeth-gritting for the day to reach his limit.

"Well, L" Raito said, his voice assuming such a conversational, jaunty tone that Ryuuzaki's eyes narrowed instantaneously in suspicion "I'm really glad you asked, actually." and his sugary voice was pure venom. "Because, you see, since I always wanted to be a detective and you were my idol, I thought of having a huge black "L" done across my arse. " He finished, his face completely deadpan as he said it, and then looked at Ryuuzaki with utter sobriety.

It fell like a bomb.

The silence that followed was absolute – not even a dropping leaf could be heard after the sharp words. Without realizing how hard his heart was beating, Raito waited impatiently for the ex-detective's reaction, not knowing how L would respond to a direct insult. Raito had never, ever attempted to directly insult the other man anyway.

Knowing L, he'd probably remain unaffected, and eventually come up with some kind of indirect insult of his own. Raito closed his mouth and felt his own thumping heart, trying to make it calm down. Ryuuzaki was not responding. He was just sitting there, staring at the other man, his eyes completely wide – and almost bulging out of their sockets.

Then, he opened his mouth slightly, and Raito wasn't sure what he was going to hear. He blinked, to unconsciously shield himself from the unknown. But a fraction of a second later, to the auburn haired man's completely disturbed surprise, Ryuuzaki was grinning.

Raito started, with a slight sense of trepidation.

However, not only did L not respond; he actually turned downwards and buried his face against his knees. The only visible thing now was a mop of black hair against a background of denim jeans, and two lean long arms, wrapped around the calves.

Raito blinked slightly, not really knowing what to do. Then, out of no where, L's two white-covered shoulders started shaking, at first very slightly, and then increasing in intensity. Not knowing what was happening, or why his companion was suddenly acting like an epileptic – apart from the usual level of awkwardness, of course – Raito leaned forward a bit with a curious expression on his face.

Then, suddenly hearing a small sound, like a whimper, come from L, Raito froze. The strange choked sounds continued. Raito looked at the back of L's black head as though it had turned pink. What on earth…was L…was L…

…_crying?_

"O-Oi…" Raito's hand hovered a bit over the other man's shoulder, not really knowing if he should touch it or not. Mostly, he just felt horrible now. He'd never pegged L to be…the…crying type? The Japanese man, who'd never really directly swore at anyone before, cursed himself internally over and over. He should have kept quiet! Who knows what L had gone through…Raito shouldn't have attacked L so openly…It was even worse now that L's shoulders were shaking so violently. His narrow bone structure and foetal position made him look completely weak and vulnerable. Raito felt as though he'd kicked a crippled dog.

Finally, mustering up all his courage, the auburn haired man gingerly lay his on the white covered shoulder, mildly surprised to find it so warm and… Then, carefully, as though afraid he might get kicked at any given moment, he shook the shoulder a bit.

"Ryuuzaki...?" he asked, his voice deliberately low and shaky. This was so, so strange, on so many levels, he thought, and felt completely disturbed. But then, just as he pulled on the other man's shoulder, L's head started to bob backwards a bit, until, little by little, his expression started to reveal itself.

"mfh…mhrgh…haha…ahahahaha…"

If Raito thought that what he'd been thinking before was disturbing, then, obviously, he was mistaken.

Because the reality was quite unmatched in terms of incredibility.

L's face, coupled with the carefree laughter, was completely, completely wrong.

Raito stared, literally unable to pull his eyes away from the unique and terrorizing sight. It wasn't only the idea of Ryuuzaki letting go of all inhibition and laughing, but the actual vision of it. The way that L's eyes were scrunched up tightly and his mouth was open. The way his black hair fanned around his head as he waved it around. Most of all, the sharpness of the laughing sound was astonishing.

But that was not what had glued Raito's eyes on the other's face. It was the fact that, unbelievably, as he laughed with such unseen abandon, the senior detective looked…he looked…

…_so young._

"AHAHAHAHAHA!!" A few of the pedestrians walking quietly along turned curious, irritated glances at L and Raito's general direction.

Ryuuzaki was actually turning red. This was something that had never happened before in the history of modern humankind. Here had Raito been, honing himself for an apology, when all along, Ryuuzaki had been guffawing his guts out. The remorsefulness that had nested in Raito's stomach, slowly but surely, started turning into white, searing ire. As if he hadn't done enough already by provoking him, Ryuuzaki was making fun of him as well now!!

Raito snarled a bit under his breath, annoyed primarily at himself. He couldn't believe himself. For a moment there, he'd almost felt sorry for the slimy unwashed cretin! What had he been thinking? Of course L would never cry!!

Then again…he'd never laugh either. And amazingly, he just had!

The detective covered his face with his palms as the laughter finally started dying down. Raito stood over the other man, his shoulders tensed and his palms fisted at his sides, as though preparing to punch. Unsure of whether he should feel insulted or plainly disturbed, he simply waited for the ex-detective to calm down completely, before he said anything he might regret again.

"Ahaha…ha…hah…hnn.." the sounds grew calmer as Ryuuzaki removed his hands from his head, revealing his grinning expression. Raito, who wanted to ask what all that had been about and curse at L at the same time, watched the detective rub the tears of laughter from his eyes.

Finally, as L's placated breath resumed, Raito gritted his teeth and sat back down, facing the detective, who was now looking at him with strange eyes, still with a smile on his face. Raito didn't know how to act when those eyes were looking at him with anything but suspicion, so he broke eye-contact and stared at L's feet instead. He didn't realize that his own eyes were furrowed slightly, or that he was still seeing L's astonishingly young laughing face with his mind's eye.

"Are you finished?" Raito finally asked, finding it unnecessary to mask the extreme irritation he was experiencing. He found, strangely enough, that during L's little laughing fit, his need to make Ryuuzaki know how much he was despised had increased.

"Yes. Thank you, Raito–kun. That was very entertaining." L nodded slightly, looking like one of those dolls with the bobbing heads that Raito had always detested.

"I'm glad you enjoy being called an arsehole, because I could entertain you all day long." Raito's voice was sharp and cruel, intending to pierce through L's barriers and press the detective's buttons.

But, apparently, he pressed all the wrong buttons. Because this time, L didn't take time to start building up his laughter. He plainly chuckled, causing Raito to look at him again, startled.

"What's so funny?" Raito could not contain himself anymore, determined not to allow anyone – and most of all, this hypocrite – to attempt to ridicule him directly.

But Ryuuzaki was completely unaffected by the other's barely restrained anger, and answered with an unperturbed, clear voice. The only difference between his current tone and the one he'd always used in the past was that now, apparently after such an intense laughing session, even he could not reproduce the frigid suspicion and hostile irony that had always been between them in the past.

His conduct showed, apart from other things, the fact that he wasn't afraid of Raito anymore. That he was out of Raito's control…

…and perhaps it was that notion which had made the young Yagami so angry in the first place.

"I was just…I was amazed." Ryuuzaki started saying, his tone with an unusual undercurrent of sincerity that he'd used only when ordering cakes. He raised his hand to make a motion toward the other man, who was staring expectantly "That was the first time I've witnessed such frankness from Raito-kun. The sheer drama of it."

Raito narrowed his eyes unconsciously, only now realizing his error. How could he have allowed a small moment of anger to destroy the entire fortress of pretense that he'd managed to keep up so far! If L ever managed to see the kind of insecurity that lay beyond Kira's destroyed ideals, then Raito would never live the shame down. "I was just being ironic, Ryuuzaki, when faced with your useless interrogation." Raito immediately countered, trying to undo the damage.

But the moment he spoke again, Ryuuzaki's eyes, which had loomed warmly in front of him, immediately dulled again, apparently…apparently… losing interest? Some kind of unidentified force inside him propelled Raito to draw L's attention again, to reach the core of the labyrinth that was this mystery man's mind. Now there were two forces working in Raito's mind, battling for dominance. On the one hand, he didn't want to reveal any kind of honesty or truth to anyone, much less L…but on the other hand, this unexplained sudden need, which was uncalled and strangely intense, to keep L's interest…

"But…" Before he knew what he was doing, captivated by the way L's black eyes focused on him again, and the way L's thumb had sunk in the opening between his lips, Raito spoke again, not calculating what he'd say before he blurted it out. "my words might not have been completely unfounded."

L's face turned to face Raito completely again, his movement reminiscent of a moth being drawn to the flame. Thinking of the comparison of himself and Ryuuzaki as a moth and a flame, as a sudden reflex, Raito's pulse quickened significantly.

"Oh?" Ryuuzaki asked, leaning slightly forward "Is that a confession?"

Raito kicked away from the ground, tossing his apple to a pile of dirt on the ground. Slowly, he started patting the dirt off his – already quite dirty – clothes. As he bent his head out of the other man's view, he made sure to be heard nonetheless "You already knew what I think of you, L, although none of us would ever admit it. No harm in telling you something you already know." He stated simply, perhaps reassuring himself more than talking to L, as he proceeded to mingle with the crowd of the main street once more.

"Yet more confessions. Today is truly exceptional." Ryuuzaki's voice was heard from behind him, and, unable to stop his own hyper-awareness of the other man's actions, he heard the shuffling sounds of a body walking, with a rather faster-than-usual pace, towards him. Internally, he grinned. Strangely, he felt a bit as though he was inebriated in a way – that was the best way to explain it. The more he realized how he could command L's intrigue, the more he wanted to provoke it. Until, despite his better judgment, assuring himself that he wasn't revealing anything or being honest, he kept the conversation alive.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Ryuuzaki. At least you're always honest in your completely useless mental pursuits." Raito commented, turning to pierce L with a completely heartfelt, scornful gaze "How happy your world must be, not worrying about anything apart from your own little obsessions."

A small pause followed. Then, after a few moments, Ryuuzaki's voice echoed from the left, amused and ironic at its best "Kira-kun does realize, of course, how utterly ridiculous that sounds, when told from his perspective."

The small sting that had accompanied the appellation did not last long, and Raito grinned nastily to himself as he walked, not bothering to turn and look at the other "Of course. 'Kira-kun realizes that.'" He mimicked L's falsely polite turn of phrase. And then, feeling an unprecedented swell of exhilaration: "But that doesn't mean you're not a freak too." He concluded solidly, walking between two strangers, who were crowding his way.

Ryuuzaki didn't bother with squeezing himself between people, and just walked the long way around the throng. Raito waited for him, and then the two of them set off again, walking rather slowly, in comparison to their usual pace.

"Unlike Raito-kun, I never claimed the contrary." L's voice justified, and Raito shook his head slightly as he walked, grinning a bit.

"I suppose that makes you feel so honourable."

"Well, compared to Raito-kun…"

And the conversation continued as they walked, not pausing even for a breath. Neither the agitated, curious stares of the fellow pedestrians, nor the vivid hallucinations were powerful enough to weaken the intensity of the heated debate, which was drawn out and accentuated, as though the participants were truly savouring every single moment of it.

By the time dusk had fallen and they had to look for a hut, Raito didn't even realize that he hadn't mistaken any women for Misa today, or that he had eaten three awful fruits for dinner, instead of just one.

-

When L kicked the hut's front door open, the colour of the sky was already a mixture of light and dark blue. It hadn't taken long for the two of them to realize it was most prudent to retire early for the night when in Mu. Not only the hallucinations of the night were unpredictable, but, regrettably, other humans were unpredictable as well.

Ironically enough, criminality seemed to exist even in Mu, although in a much blander and milder version of its version in the live world. It made sense that most ex-criminals would be reluctant – and even dispassionate – about stealing and raping, after the indubitable horrors that they'd persevered in their Trials. If there was any reason why anyone stole in Mu, was because of necessity.

Everyone needed clothing, basic commodities…but few were the ones who had the courage to enter the 'haunted' houses in order to retrieve their supplies. As such, some resulted to larceny, or even violence. Most of it, of course, happened during the night.

And although Raito's fingers sometimes itched, even now, for the smoothness of the crème-coloured pages between his fingers, it was undeniable that Kira wouldn't have much reason to exist in Mu. Most creatures here were very much like ghosts and less like truly accountable humans, with L and Raito included.

In this place, both men had realized, peoples' minds were not screwed properly on their heads. With living nightmares in the streets worsening the situation, each person in Mu carried with him all the fears and regrets of a life long past. Sometimes, when walking in the Main Street at night, one could see people scratching at themselves, as though trying to peel their own skin off. Some people would just sit there, unblinking and unmoving – perhaps even unbreathing. Raito wondered if, perhaps, this was what happened when one gives up on one's quest to find their fated person.

Living dead, he thought with a chill.

The lean auburn-haired man, still dressed in the navy trousers and beige blazer he'd taken from a house a few days earlier, walked tranquilly through the door, which Ryuuzaki, just a few moments ago, had almost ripped from its hinges with his kick. Well, it was true that the bloody thing wouldn't open no matter what they'd tried – the wood had probably been affected by the humidity – so kicking it open had been the only solution left. Climbing though the window was simply disgraceful, not to mention that Raito had had enough of avoiding direct routes in his life.

Losing no time, Raito moved to the window, seating himself on the floor directly beneath it, unconsciously concealing himself in a blanket of shadow. He leaned his head back calmly and closed his eyes, hearing the muffled sounds of Ryuuzaki shuffling around at the door.

After he'd dumped the plastic bucket and his shoes outside, L turned around, closing the door behind him. The strange sight of seeing him be so active with his body rather than his mind had not been lost on Raito, but he'd become quite used to until now. Having helped L shower every morning, he pretty much knew everything there was to know on that aspect…

Raito opened his eyes immediately, estranged by what he'd just visualized. He frowned a bit at the darkness. For some reason, all of a sudden, he felt a bit hot. Technically, it wasn't much warmer in the cabin than it was outside, because of the hut's large glassless window. Even so, in the darkness, there was a strange kind of flush climbing from Raito's neck to his face.

Huffing a bit in frustration, he took off his beige pullover, revealing the black t-shirt that lay beneath. This might or might not have gone unnoticed by Ryuuzaki, who was still ambling around the room, trying to find a proper space to settle in.

"Raito-kun has taken the best spot."

Raito, who was folding his jumper neatly, made an unsympathetic little sound. "Better luck next time."

And the 'vegetable' deserved it too, since, after that critical moment, when he had so shamelessly guffawed in that disturbingly carefree way of his, Raito had experienced an evening like no other: he'd just gone through hours of debating with L openly, showing L exactly how honest he could be when he put his mind to it. Of course, he couldn't rid himself so easily from years of mind conditioning: his face and voice still weren't very expressive, and, each time he openly told L what he thought about something, a small part of him screamed in panicked protest.

But overall, the feeling he was receiving from this novel form of dialogue was…the feeling satisfaction, strangely enough. It was like fighting with their bodies, with the only difference that they were fighting with words. The same kind of twisted satisfaction – that wild, completely gleeful feeling – that he'd experienced when he'd proclaimed to everyone, on the last day of his life, that yes, goddamn them; he was Kira.

The kind of thing he felt now was closely associated to that. He had to admit to himself that the actual action of letting Ryuuzaki know how utterly aggravating, how hypocritical Raito considered him to be was so liberating, so redeeming after all those years of self-suppression, that it was no wonder Raito was indulging in it with every opportunity.

And Ryuuzaki, of course, was no exception. He gave as much as he took. Raito recalled a conversation from a few hours earlier that day, when he and L had still been in the High Street, walking near a relatively dull hallucination. He remembered what he'd said, and, even now, as he remembered it, he felt the thrill of seeing L's face, his eyes. Everything about it…it had just felt so…so liberating. So perfect.

"_Why the hell are you chewing on your finger anyway? Hasn't anyone told you that you look autistic?" Raito asked, right after L had finished his own accusation. The black eyes had an onyx flare in them, as though lit from within by L's excitement. The very appearance of that face, with those scrunched features and intense expressio, was a thrill in itself, and it played a detrimental role in doubling Raito's own exhilaration. _

"_I'm not surprised that, when finding no solid faults in me, Raito-kun tries to dissect my meaningless personal habits." L answered with a flat and dismissive tone, as though not even deigning to consider __the argument._

"_Yes, 'meaningless'. By all means go ahead. But you do know what they say about foxes: if they can't reach a fruit, they call it rotten." Raito answered with a rather mocking voice._

"_I'm flattered that Raito-kun has thought so very much about me – it seems that I managed to bring colour to his drab Japanese schoolboy life, after all. He does seem to have an affixation for anal-retentive, extremist ideas anyway. " L commented, in the way one would talk about the weather._

"_Indeed" Raito said, trying to keep his lip from curling into an unbecoming snarl, and succeeding for the most part. The only evocative thing about him at that moment was his voice "I have reached extreme conclusions about you. You, the great detective, who probably can't use the potty without having a butler wipe him after he's done…oh, what am I thinking. You can't use a toilet in the first place. How would you sit on it like a normal human being?"_

"_Raito-kun must know first hand of all these things, since he was chained to me for upwards of four months for not managing to convince me he was not a serial murderer. Besides, it would make sense he'd inspect others' grooming habits with such perverted interest. He suffers from an obsessive compulsive disorder comparable only to old spinsters and passive homosexuals." L answered in one breath, his inflection and cold precision not changing even once._

_Upon hearing his opponent's last words, attacked by memories he'd rather forget, Raito almost became rabid. And even though he fervently kept his face completely expressionless, his voice was like a scorpion sting._

"_Obsessive Compulsive? For noticing that you walk like Quasimodo? For being offended by your very existence, and your labeling of yourself as a healthy male? All those cute little things that you do, that you think make you look eccentric and cool, but they actually make you look even more mentally retarded."_

"_Oh, yes. Unlike Narcicuss-kun, who aims to look his best while killing off anyone who ever opposed him, and have his nails manicured for the next time his girlfriend comes over to celebrate the Annual Placebo Killing Spree, I've foolishly neglected my physique."_

"_I apologize for caring both about my appearance and criminality in the world, a concern that, apparently, you could never manage to muster up, despite your pompous pseudonyms and efforts to lock people smarter than you behind bars."_

And after that, the conversation had gone downhill to an even greater extent. Raito sat there now; quietly recalling it with his eyes closed, not just the words but the whole electric atmosphere of it, and was left smiling unconsciously in the darkness.

Finally, when he heard a loud sound from his right, he was jarred from his trance, and opened his eyes to inspect what new disaster might have taken place.

"You all right?" he muttered beneath his breath, looking at L, who was holding his knee with both his hands. Raito got a good idea of what the banging sound might have been.

Without answering, L nodded slightly and squeezed his leg again, obviously trying to squelch the pain of the forming bruise. A few moments later, the detective carefully sunk to the wooden floor, leaning against the wall on Raito's right. From where he was sitting with his back against the windowpane, the amber-eyed man could vaguely see L's features, illuminated only slightly from the starlight. L had purposely chosen not to sit directly opposite Raito, in the best-lit part of the room.

Of course he wouldn't. Like Raito, he didn't like being revealed in any way.

Of course, that had all changed today, hadn't it…what with their shameless bickering…? In retrospect, Raito felt a bit embarrassed at having partook in such instantaneous and intrinsically childish insults…but then again, on the other hand… it had felt sinfully splendid to do something so forbidden.

Currently, like the survivors of a particularly earth-shattering war, they were sitting quietly, both clearly exhausted. Raito hadn't actually felt so exhausted since last week, when he'd had that horrible nightmare.

Not even wanting to think about that, he stretched his legs, letting his thighs spread smoothly while keeping his knees bent and releasing an unrestrained grunt of relief. Then, enjoying the blissful peace and silence as opposed to the constant screams of the High Street, he gave a wide, drawn-out yawn, which was a sure signal of an exceptionally restful sleep to follow.

On his part, Ryuuzaki wiggled his toes a bit in order to savour the feeling of being bare-footed and not constrained, at long last. Of course Ryuuzaki could not see him clearly in this lighting, but Raito wasn't unaware of the black eyes that were glued on him, back to their incessant calculating inspection. Raito would have told L to stop staring for once, but he couldn't muster up the courage. Besides, just as Raito was thinking about how tired he was, he heard a pronounced yawning sound coming from his side, and his eyes couldn't help but lock immediately on L's face.

Watching this spectrum of expressions going through Ryuuzaki's usually neutral visage would never get old. Raito still wanted to see as many expressions as he could from that face: shock, anger, fear, hatred…and even laughter, perhaps, now that he already knew what it looked like.

Yes, he realized it now. Ever since the very first day Raito had seen L walking there, as confused and hopeless as all the others, Raito had realized that he'd never stop wanting it.

-

"It's this way." Raito pointed to the path on the left, a narrow street coiled like a serpent, with a strange orange illumination shining in the distance. It was a few days after their questionable confrontation the other day, and Raito had found that, strangely enough, the more time passed during which he retained that same way of treating L, the more the tension that had been prevalent between them had started to dissipate.

Ryuuzaki stayed silent and calculating for a few moments, observing both the road that Raito was indicating, and the alternative route. Unfortunately, they'd reached an intersection again, and both their choices appeared quite bleak.

"…" the detective stared carefully at the thin, almost constricted passage that Raito had pointed at. It was strangely devoid of people, which, in this place, made it look all the more suspicious. Then, L turned to observe the other road, a wider, but much darker, pathway, which most others seemed to follow.

"It mustn't be. Look there." L finally gave his verdict, and pointed toward the broad street. Raito gritted his teeth at the other's lack of faith, but turned to inspect what Ryuuzaki was pointing at nonetheless.

"What about it?" the auburn haired man asked, unimpressed. The same westernized houses were everyone, and there was no diversity in the environment save for the people disturbing it with their presence.

"The tower." L instructed, and Raito finally noticed what the other was talking about. It was not exactly a tower, but more of a monument; a graphite obelisk against the pink-orange colour of the sky. From where they were now standing, they could just barely see the top of it, since it was hidden behind countless buildings. "If there's a landmark that we haven't seen before, wouldn't it be more logical to walk toward it?"

Raito unconsciously crossed his arms as he listened to the other man's words. Since the both of them were standing put in the middle of the crossroads, they obstructed the free movement of other pedestrians, which in turn earned them more than a few agitated frowns. If the fellow citizens of Mu could talk to them, surely they would appear even less friendly.

As it was, however, Raito completely ignored them. He had decided that he would not succumb to strangers' will any longer, so he focused on making them succumb instead. "How can you be so sure that this road leads toward it? Have you forgotten the last time we had this problem? Perhaps the less obvious path is the right one."

L tapped his thumb against his lower lip "True…but then again, the amount of people walking that way_ is_ overwhelming. Statistically speaking, and considering the amount of people in this place…then surely that road is the correct route"

"Even so…" Raito started, turning again to meticulously observe the two alternative pathways, and scrunching up his nose when facing the one that L was supporting "…it looks too suspicious. " He took a few steps backward, until he was standing directly beside L, both staring skeptically at the street in question in the same way one would look at a new pet they were thinking of buying. "We could have followed it if the daylight was stronger, but now it may be dangerous…"

"Dangerous?" Ryuuzaki countered within seconds, black tresses floating around his face as he turned to stare at Raito with light amusement "The most dangerous thing here is you."

Raito's face was overcome by a speechless irked expression, but apart from that, he mostly ignored L's comment, since the detective had started talking again.

"Besides," Ryuuzaki started, waving his wiry forearm across their field of vision to indicate the surroundings "in my opinion, the other street looks much more unsafe." He said, and pointed at the narrow, dimply-lit passageway that Raito favoured.

"Well" Raito raised his palms upward in a mock-shrugging motion "what can I say? Being as you are an expert on suspicion, we should all take your word for it. You hardly do anything else except to suspect anyway."

L didn't look the slightest bit perturbed as he countered with his own faux-nonchalance "Well I also think we had better follow my advice, seeing as Raito-kun does tend to 'space out' while walking." The detective started, and slowly started moving toward the more spacious of the two roads.

There was a subtle twitch in Raito's eyebrow, more as a reflex to that infuriating calm voice and sneering wide black eyes than an purposeful expression "Yes, but fortunately you're such a reliable guide that we never have to pause at intersections for twenty minutes, regardless of my unacceptable carelessness." The auburn haired man muttered, as he turned to follow the gawky youth, with obstinately heavy footsteps.

-

They had been walking peacefully, and relatively untroubled, for a bit more than two hours now. The sky had reverted to its nighttime visage, and they both knew they'd have to start looking for shelter quite soon.

As much as Raito didn't want to admit it to himself, Ryuuzaki had probably been right about following this path rather than the other. The road was open and the nightmarish hallucinations were distributed more sparsely around them. Additionally, they always had the looming obelisk structure to serve as their beacon, so they at least unconsciously felt that they had a sense of orientation – a feeling that they'd missed over the last few months.

"Shall we go to a hut again tonight?" Raito asked in a flat tone, when he realized that the sky started darkening significantly, and the wind that blew around them had become much chillier than he was comfortable with.

They hadn't talked much after that low-scale confrontation earlier, but, surprisingly, instead of rising during these long hours of silence, the tension between them had decreased instead. In fact, the atmosphere between them, despite their consistent verbal rows, was perhaps calmer than…

…ever.

Raito almost felt that he could freely say things to Ryuuzaki now, without caring at all about the consequences. Which was, in itself, an unexpectedly pleasant feeling.

Maybe some dark, hidden part of Raito, a part he didn't want to acknowledge, had hoped that he'd eventually manage to talk freely to Ryuuzaki about something else.

Talk to L…talk without subterfuge…actually discuss…

"It's getting quite cold." Raito said again, when he realized that L wasn't planning on answering. He made a short pause in his walking, and slightly turned his head in order to look at the other from above his shoulder.

"Raito-kun must know it's still quite early, despite the darkness. That is what happens in winter." The former detective said with an undercurrent of scorn that, had he not become so used to this kind of bland insult, would have gone straight to Raito's more sensitive nerves. As it was, however, he kept calm, knowing that this was Ryuuzaki's twisted way of giving a serious response. In any case, he didn't want to persist about leaving to find shelter, lest he appear to have a weakness in front of the other man, which was one of the things he wanted least of all.

"Well I suppose we could walk a bit more, then." The Japanese man concluded, his features sharp and angular as he swiftly turned forward again, to resume his former pace. He was trying to keep himself moving at a relatively high intensity, so as to prevent his system from registering the cold around him.

This time, however, as he turned around, he sensed L's body walking directly beside him. Raito surreptitiously turned his eyes to the left, careful not to move his head. Sure enough, there L was, walking faster than he had before, hands in his pockets and teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

He was cold as well, the bastard! But he wouldn't admit it…

The moment Ryuuzaki's eyes moved to lock with Raito's, the auburn haired man stared openly for a few moments, and then finally snapped his auburn irises away. Focusing on the surroundings in an effort to relieve the slight tension that had surfaced so unexpectedly, Raito started paying attention to the buildings, something that he hadn't been doing as much as he should have. And he'd be damned if he gave justice to L's comments about him 'spacing out while walking', so he resolved to become more focused.

There were all kinds of edifices around them now: shops, churches…any kind of structure imaginable. And as though that wasn't enough, the street was adorned by various elements of the bizarre. For example, Raito had spotted a staircase which led to the window of one of the buildings and continued right through the roof of the house, leading to nowhere.

There was this other bench nearby, which-

"L…? L…?" Raito suddenly heard a…a rather strangely high-pitched, scratchy voice. More out of surprise than anything else, he stopped moving.

It took a moment for him to understand what was happening, and the fact that he could actually hear a voice other than Ryuuzaki's deep baritone. The flash of a nightmare ran through his mind, and his heart made a sudden convulsion, causing him to momentarily lose his breath. Was it Watari…had the day come? He turned to his left, to look at Ryuuzaki, expecting to see the old butler's kindly face.

But what he saw instead made his insides freeze.

L was just standing there, petrified as well, with his eyes as wide as they'd been when he'd first heard the word 'Shinigami'. In other words, a look of terror; which was actually more expressive now, than when they'd been alive.

"Is it really L…?"

Raito actually felt the breath be knocked from his body as his eyes finally fell upon what Ryuuzaki had been staring at.

He saw a…a…

…a clone?

"…L…" the creature that looked almost exactly like Ryuuzaki raised a skeletal palm, moving it as though to cup the detective's shoulder. But, in a movement more rapid and reflexive that Raito had ever seen this particular individual exhibit, L slapped the offending hand away, taking a few steps backward.

"You…" the ex-detective whispered, and, by the way they were both ignoring him, Raito felt as though they'd temporarily forgotten he wasn't there, which was a thought that hit a bit too close to the nightmare which had haunted him all these days.

But even though Raito moved backwards along with L, the investigator's eyes were still fixed on the stranger, completely still and unmoving, as though calculating the other's movements.

Raito turned to observe more carefully this newcomer, whose appearance had managed to get L so unsettled. Of course, anyone would become disturbed by the appearance of a creature that looks almost exactly like themselves, but…but, especially considering his composed persona, L's reaction was a bit…

Raito turned to stare at the stranger's face, expecting to see a replica of L's own. Now staring so closely at him, however, Raito's fingers became lax, and his lips parted slightly.

Because he'd just noticed…

There was a sheen of blood-red colour over each of the man's irises, which were constricted impossibly in their sockets. The rest of the face, in close inspection, was actually not so identical to L's, either – Raito rejected the theory that they were twin brothers. Why had Raito not noticed the differences sooner…? This man actually looked so…so…different, in a way…

But in the meantime, the stranger had not paid Raito even the slightest mind, his whole attention still remaining fixed on L, who, incidentally, had apparently recovered from his initial shock, and was now sporting a more composed expression.

"B" Ryuuzaki attributed the letter like a verdict, straightening his back. Internally, Raito rolled his eyes, thinking ironically that he should have expected one of L's acquaintances to be named after a letter. But then, just as he was mocking them both in his mind, Raito watched the stranger copy L's movements immediately, improving his posture as well. That was a bit…strange to watch.

"You don't seem to have changed much." L evaluated, and to Raito, who knew him so well, it became obvious that he wanted to leave this 'B' man's presence very quickly.

But the detective's words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Out of nowhere, surprising both L and Raito, who was still starting at B's eyes with a sense of déjà-vu, the stranger lunged forward, latching onto L's shoulders with sharp nails.

"…L…I thought I'd never find you…" the slightly sibilant voice echoed, in a tone so desperate that it was bordering paranoia. L instantly started trying to pry 'B's hands away, but then, just as Raito fully registered the meaning of what he'd just heard, the detective froze as well, raising his face to stare into the maniacally constricted eyes.

"You…what?" L asked with a wheeze, and Raito didn't remember ever hearing the arrogant man so breathless before, as though he'd just run a marathon.

The younger Yagami took a stop forward, coming to stand directly in front of them, watching their exchange. His eyes were fixed on their interlocked white forearms, L's pressed firmly against the other man's, as though to fight 'B' away.

"Yes. I was searching for you." the lunatic red eyes said, and Raito almost took a small step back as B's face twisted into an overly wide, sharp-teethed smile, which looked nothing like the expression L had had when he'd laughed the other day. "Who else would I be searching for?"

The silence that fell between the three of them right after that statement was so absolute, that, for the first time in all this time, Raito remembered where they were and that he wasn't supposed to be hearing the voice of someone he'd never met before.

Perhaps then, it was because he knew Ryuuzaki that he was allowed, by association, to communicate with the people Ryuuzaki knew as well…?

But at this moment, these musings were hardly what Raito was worrying about. The fact that this 'B' character had just said that…L had just found…L had found the person who was looking for him!

"This…can't be right." L suddenly said, and, once again with a rapid motion, shook B's claws away from his shoulders.

"What?" the look-alike asked, as though flabbergasted by the mere thought that his advance may have been rebuffed. "I left you all those nice presents…those perfect bodies…smeared in justice…" the man almost started raving, licking his lips.

But in the meantime, Raito, whose heart and blood seemed to have temporarily stopped working for a few crucial moments, decided he'd intervene, if only for an instinctual need rather than a practical one. Had he been thinking logically, he would have surmised immediately that this suspicious-looking, temperamental person was dangerous, and, if anything, at least his occult eyes might be an indication.

But, as it was, the keen sting of an unknown emotion, rather than his reason, was the thing that spurred Raito into action.

"Oi, Ryuuzaki. What's going on?" he asked with a curt voice, having had enough of not making his presence known.

But, even though he'd been expecting an answer from L, upon hearing his voice, B, the red-eyed clone, turned around.

"Do I know you?" he hissed in Raito's face, and his red eyes widened and narrowed consecutively, as though he was unsuccessfully trying to mimic L's mannerisms. Raito was taken aback, not immediately understanding what on earth was happening, since he was still too caught up in thinking that this man, whoever he was, was apparently obsessed with…replicating L, both in appearance and character.

"…what?" Raito simply asked, too confused to appear neither expressionless nor hostile.

Then, suddenly, L spoke again, his voice much lower than Raito expected it to be, more of a mutter than a statement "He's talking to me." He said,

Raito turned to look at L, only to realize that the black eyes were fixed on B, not on him.

And B also turned around, to stare at the detective at his own leisure. Raito felt that stinging feeling at his chest again as he saw them staring at each other, but, this time, the actual revelation of what he'd heard was too strong for him to be forgotten. Based on what they were saying, and the fact that B had answered to Raito's call, then…

"…I'm 'Ryuuzaki'." L simply said, his eyes unnaturally blank as he stared at the man against him.

Raito, standing a few feet aside, experienced a sensation comparable to when he'd been told Misa had been taken into custody – there were chills running down his spine…as though having been told, right after having eaten, that he'd just swallowed human flesh.

"…you…you…why?" B started, and his red eyes flashed in an indefinable emotion, which could be both ire and incomprehensibility.

But then, just as he'd been acting relatively docile, he suddenly lunged forward, bringing his palms to lock in a steel grip around L's throat.

"O-Oi..!" Raito exclaimed, lunging forward to try and retch B's – no_, Ryuuzaki's –_ arms off L. But just as Raito tried to grab the man's hand, Ryuuzaki – that is, B – maneuvered out of the way, causing L to stumble as he was being strangled and dragged around.

"Why?" Ryuuzaki squeezed L's throat harder, and Raito actually heard the disgusting sounds of crunching flesh. If he didn't hurry up, then-

"So that…I won't…forget…" L gave a chocked wheeze, and, started clawing at the hands which were locked around his throat like manacles. His face had started becoming almost purple in colour.

In the meantime, a crowd of people had gathered around them, most of them watching the proceedings only with curiosity, instead of any substantial horror. Why were they all so unresponsive? Did they think this was a hallucination, or…oh. Oh.

If this was how hallucinations feel, not getting a helping hand from anyone, then Raito felt even more terrible now.

"We're going to stay together forever…" B was hissing again, as he all but crushed L's delicate skin under his bony palm "You're going to be mine…my…me…you're going to be me…I'm going to be you…you're going to be-"

"Ryuuzaki!" Raito called reflexively, not remembering that he was assigning the wrong name to the wrong person as the ran toward B, aiming a punch at the man's solar plexus.

But just as Raito was about to bring his fist down, B suddenly turned to dodge the attack, dragging Ryuuzaki's rapidly weakening body along the dirt on the ground.

"Ryuuzaki, hold on!" Raito called, cursing the people of Mu and their passiveness. A person was in actual danger, and they were content to just sit there and…wait, was L in actual danger? Wasn't he dead already…? But Raito wasn't willing to just sit and find out what would happen.

Just as he was preparing to lunge again, however, the red eyes turned to pierce him, staring at him with unreadable scrutiny. Raito didn't move, waiting to see what the opponent would do.

But as he looked into B's eyes, all of a sudden, they seemed to…glow…? And then, within seconds, B spoke once again "Who are you anyway…" he scrunched up his face into an ugly grimace "Yagami…Tsuki?"

Raito was immobilized, his body gone as still as a column of ice.

There was only one way anyone could mistake his name like that…Misa had done it as well when she'd first met him. There was only one way to mispronounce his name, and that was to misspell the kanji for 'moon'…

And Raito only knew of one way that anyone could instantly read the kanji of one's name, just by seeing their face.

"You…!" Raito started, pointing openly at B and internally cursing himself for not realizing it sooner. "Shinigami…?"

"What?" the black haired man croaked, his lip curling unattractively, and eyebrows furrowing "What's tha-"

But just as the enemy had lost his focus, L, who'd been gathering his strength all this time, threw a kick, aimed well-enough to knock B off his feet and consequently make his hands loose their grip on the detective's neck.

"Ugh…" B and L collapsed at the same time, and Raito lost no time, sprinting forward and grabbing L's upper arm, forcing the other man upwards. The detective was still coughing and panting, as the auburn haired man began dragging him away.

"No, wait." L said with a weak voice, digging his heels on the ground to prevent Raito from manhandling him. His one hand was clasped around his throat, and Raito could already see bruises forming on the alabaster skin. It must hurt…and now, B was recovering. They had to get away now, or else-

"What?" Raito barked, bewildered. "Can't you see your little boyfriend's a psychopath!" and he truly didn't like the hue his voice had taken right now. What had made him say that anyway? Why was he…?

The mass of people around them, in the meantime, was starting to disperse, some of them probably having surmised that it was not a hallucination after all, which was why they were trying to get as far away in the smallest amount of time possible.

Ignoring his advice, L turned away from Raito and towards B, who had now risen to his feet. But this time, as the enemy lunged toward the detective again, with his red Demon eyes, L was prepared. Indeed he could be quite strong when he set his mind to it. And obviously, B didn't seem quite so powerful when not facing unsuspecting victims.

It took only a few short moments, during which the tendons in Raito's entire body had become impossibly stretched, for L to bring B to his knees. Finally, the snake-voiced man lay immobilized on the ground, and L bent over him, resting his hands on his knees.

"Beyond…" he started, speaking in English. Raito didn't understand what the word 'Beyond' had to do with anything, not even after he heard the remainder of he phrase.

"…have you seen Mr.Wammy?" Ryuuzaki – _no, not Ryuuzaki…not anymore_ – L asked, his black eyes sliding over the faint man's features.

But B wasn't responding. He didn't seem to be receiving any kind of external stimulus, as he stared blindly off to the distance, muttering incomprehensibilities to himself "I don't understand…" Raito heard him whispering, with the tell-tale speed of insanity "I don't understand…I looked…I looked for you…"

But if B was obstinate, then L was ten times more "Tell me, _Ryuuzaki_. Mr Wammy…?"

Then, suddenly, as though waking up from his trance, Ryuuzaki stopped muttering to himself and opened his red eyes wide, barking upwards "_WHY IS HE THE FAVORITE!?_" he roared at no one, and then fell quiet again, muttering to himself.

"…let's leave." Raito's voice, so clear and melodic compared to both the others' tones, echoed around them. L raised his eyes, gazing searchingly at Raito's face for a few moments.

Until finally, to the auburn haired man's honest gratefulness, the detective slowly stood up, taking a step away from the ranting man on the ground. The crowd around them had almost totally dispersed by now, probably realizing that there was no great spectacle to observe here, apart from a crazy man's ramblings.

Without further ado, Raito walked to the detective's side, his narrowed eyes still fixed on the enemy, as though watching for any stray movements.

"Yes, we might as well…" L's voice echoed, still skeptical, but apparently resigned to the fact that this suspect was not susceptible to reason. But just as L turned to follow Raito, and had taken a few steps away from his mysterious old acquaintance, a low, hollow sound, like a chalk scraping on a board, echoed around them.

Both men stopped walking. It took some time for them to realize…that the screeching sound was actually laughter.

L turned around slowly to stare at the pathetic sight, followed closely by Raito. But the guffawing sounded so cruel, so utterly self-satisfied, that Raito knew that, whatever followed…would not be in their best interest.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! WAHAHAHAHAA!!!" Ryuuzaki practically screamed, as though the horrid sound was being forced out of his lungs trying to rip through his system. It reminded Raito only too keenly of another insane laughter, one he'd heard from much closer…and one he'd been trying to forget. Many pedestrians dispersed from around them, choosing to walk a different route. But B would not stop howling; and the volume intensified rather than faded as more time passed.

Until finally, convinced that there was no point in listening to this, L turned to leave, at which point Ryuuzaki's laughter abruptly ceased, and was replaced by a drawling, sickly murmur.

"It's really too bad, L…" B laughed a bit more after that, but when L and Raito turned around to watch him, the lunatic was staring at the sky above, and not at the detective, who he was addressing.

"It's too bad that you're searching for that kind of person…"

L turned around to fully face the other now, obviously intent on hearing what B had to say. Raito narrowed his eyes, looking first at the red eyes of the offender and then at the shaggy rear view of L's black- covered head. Maybe it was best if they just left immediately-

"When in fact…the one he's searching for…aha…ahahahaha!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!"

But L waited patiently for the macabre, sadistic laughter to stop, obviously knowing that the more interest he displayed, the slower he'd learn any information. Besides, at times, even L may have fallen victim to what people call 'trepidation', Raito thought, as he noticed L's tightening fists.

"…Is his dead wife. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! AA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Raito stared again at the back of L's head, which was completely unmoving, and then back at the man on the ground, whose ribs were now threatening to split in two from the intensity of the hysteric laughter.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"_You're doomed!!!"_

"_YOU'RE DOOMED!"_

Even now, hours after L had quietly left B howling his mantra in the middle of the street, Raito thought he could hear an insane screeching sound, gnawing at his ears.

And L? Well, ever since a few hours ago…he didn't seem to respond to any sounds at all.

-

This hut looked exactly like the one of the previous night, and the night before that…and the night before that. On their way here, they'd tried a few other small wooden houses, but they'd all been occupied. And since neither Raito nor L was tired enough to succumb to sleeping in a space crowded with more than one other person – especially not tonight – they both resolved to walk as long as they'd have to until they could find a respectable, empty cabin.

When they finally found one, Raito was the one who had take care of their new bucket –which they'd picked up earlier this evening from a nearby junkyard, as they did everything else. L, in the meantime, took his shoes off quietly, throwing them haphazardly out the door.

After that, sitting on the elevated doorstep, in complete silence, the two of them washed each other's hands and faces. Not following the other's example, the auburn haired man took off his shoes and set them neatly outside, making sure that everything was arranged perfectly. The shoes, the bucket…everything was in place…

So now he had no more reasons to procrastinate, did he? In order to feel a bit better about it, he reminded himself that, eventually, he'd have to be alone with L anyway. So he walked inside calmly, proceeding to shut the door behind him.

Immediately, the interior of the house was cast to deep darkness, amplified by the heavy sense of macabre stillness that had overcome them. Tonight's weather was nothing like the frosty wind of yesterday night, but it was just cold enough that it would not allow for rest without a blanket.

Quietly, Raito settled in a supine position near the north cabin wall, nesting his hands above his stomach and blinking in the dark.

The silence around was making him uncomfortable, strangely enough. Usually, he'd enjoy this chance to relax…but now…after all he'd heard today, the curiosity and adrenaline that was still running through his veins wouldn't let him relax.

Who had that man been? Why did he look so much like L…? Why had L – the bastard – adopted someone else's name? Was that man important to L…no, he wasn't. Or else L would have gone off with him…right…?

Was Watari really…not looking for L at all?

Raito's blood was boiling, and his eyes just refused to shut. He opened his mouth slightly, considering starting a conversation. It was easy to check if L was still awake, by the pattern of his breathing. Yes, of course he was awake…Actually, come to think of it; L had been truly undoing himself here in Mu all this time, by sleeping every night like a normal human being. For L, it was more natural not to sleep.

Why couldn't Raito just calm his nerves, though? Perhaps it wasn't the same for L…but no, of course it was the same for him. This awkwardness was generated as a result of both their hush, not only Raito's…

Unable to feel comfortable, the lean man rolled to his side, facing away from the wall and toward L. Even though he was barely visible in the shadows, Raito could just vaguely discern the other man's quiet profile. L's eyes were still open, although, for once, they weren't trained on Raito at all, but turned downwards instead, staring at the floor. In true form, the detective was curled in on himself, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around shins and head leaning lightly on the wall. What was he thinking?

Was it Watari…? Had L truly been affected by B's words…? Raito found it difficult to admit to himself that he did not have neither the insight nor the empathy to know. All in all, even now, after all this time, L remained a mystery. How could any normal human aspire – or why would Raito even want – to understand a mind as complex as that…

Raito shuffled his position again, still unable to rest. In the silence of the cabin, his frustrated breathing was equivalent to an elephant's stomp. And the fact that L could hear him – and consequently read him like an open book – was an equal source of irritation.

Until finally, unable to take it anymore, Raito just surrendered to his hyperactivity. He sat up and leaned his back against the wall, spreading and bending his legs in front of him, and then setting his elbows on each of his knees.

The black-haired man didn't say anything about this sudden change. In fact, L kept so still and quiet that, if Raito was a lesser man, he might actually be fooled into believing the ex-insomniac was asleep.

Raito stared at the wall opposite from him, which incidentally happened to be the one L was leaning against. Therefore, after a few moments of frowning at a spot on the wall a few inches above L's shoulder, Raito finally opened his mouth.

…but he closed it again. Frustrated with himself, he scowled a bit more and turned to look upward, through the window. The stars of Mu were just so very dull…as though there was no real light inside them. Just like the sun, moon, and people of this place…everything was…washed out. All the colours appeared faded…all the-

Suddenly, a small, repetitive clicking sound was heard. Without moving his head, Raito turned his eyes to peer at the detective, noticing that L was biting his nails again.

It was so aggravating being next to a person who bites his nails. Most of the time, out of personal reflex, Raito just wanted to grab L's hand and pluck it away from his mouth…or at times, of course, his foot, because L had the hygienic habit of biting his toenails as well, when times got rough. It was so irritating, sitting with someone who was always so…so…

But just this once, Raito forgave and forgot. After all, L didn't seem to be acting annoying on purpose today, seeing as he'd been too distracted with his own thoughts – whatever the deuce they were – to deign to look at Raito for most of the evening. Even now, that they were alone, the detective was still looking at the floor instead of the other man.

The familiar sting of before attacked Raito with full force, and the auburn haired man inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down. He didn't even know what was wrong with him – he kept getting these ugly emotional explosions of…of, whatever it was. Most of the time, due to L's distractions, Raito couldn't even focus on logical affairs.

But now, in the nearly-complete darkness, when they couldn't really see each other…Raito could finally try to relax a bit. There was nothing here for L to do or say… this moment felt…insulated…even more personal than when they'd been chained to each other. It felt…secret. As though anything that was said or done in this completely dark place, where they could pretend it was not each other that they were talking to, would stay between these walls.

Perhaps it was this feeling, the origins and nature of which even Raito didn't realize, which propelled him to pose the next question, and expect to receive an actual honest answer.

"Who was he?"

Even though Raito had expected it to fall like a brick in the silence, it didn't. Actually, his voice blended with the background. As he spoke, the quiet tune was not disruptive, but rather flowing with the darkness around them.

Moments passed, and Raito didn't turn to look at the other man. He didn't really need to. He already knew the contours of L's face and body very well, having memorized his lethal enemy more than he did his nonexistent friends.

And in the same way, without looking at him and without making his voice much louder than a drawling murmur, L actually answered.

"A murderer."

He sounded neither somber nor exhilarated, and Raito found that he was not irritated at this. That emotionless voice sounded soothing; that blank black stare, which offered nothing and demanded nothing in return, was pleasant when coupled with the dark nocturnal atmosphere. A bit like, Raito thought, when he'd talked to Ryuuku.

Besides, Raito was curious.

"That much I could surmise. You seem to have a knack to run into them here." Raito humourlessly offered the understatement of the century. And then, always keeping his tone devoid of all inflection, as though trying not to scare a bird away, he added "And I also surmised that you probably put him behind bars and stole his alias to use for yourself, in a gesture of victory." It was not offensive…rather, it was analytical.

And L, with the same kind of tone, answered steadily "I wouldn't call it so much a victory, as a form of perversion of mine."

Raito blinked in surprised, but recovered very soon, and started skimming the stars again, trying to recognize constellations and failing. "Oh?" he simply asked. He wondered if perhaps not all stars had died yet…perhaps Mu's stars were different from the Earth's. "If you defeated me, you would have called yourself 'Kira', then? How delightfully anomalous." he reamarked, and found, to his own astonishment, that the relative disinterest in his voice was genuine.

"No" L answered without needing to pause, obviously having considered this issue before and reached a conclusion about it "Kira was too…unique. When it came to Kira, I enjoyed being L."

Raito smiled a bit in the darkness "It's all right…you don't have to be nice to me." he said with a bit of irony, but the small swell of sarcastic emotion in his voice was not enough to perturb the silent balance that had been created.

"Hn…" L gave a small pensive sound, and then kept quiet for a few moments. Raito rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, and then set it back against his knee, closing his eyes to enjoy the breeze that was coming from outside. He was wary of the cold, of course, which was why he kept his blanket near him. But for now, the temperature was still fine.

"Besides, there's no point to having such a popular pseudonym. I wouldn't manage to fool anyone." L pondered aloud, and Raito snorted a bit. But soon, his face reverted back to a form of wistful neutrality as he stared outside.

"Not that you managed to fool anyone with 'Ryuuzaki' either…we all knew it was fake from the start, didn't we?" Raito recalled, and, strangely enough, instead of being irritated or frustrated at the memory of L talking to the other members of the investigation inside the hotel room…Raito felt rather…nostalgic. So much so, that, without realizing it, he was smiling a bit as he spoke.

"Well, the point of having that one wasn't to fool anyone, anyway." L stated and, unable to decline such an obvious invitation, Raito turned around despite himself, finally moving his eyes from the window to L's face.

"Well what was the point, then?" he asked simply, and did not bother masking the curiosity in his voice. Why would he? There was nothing to be afraid of, at this stage. No ambition to look forward to. Nothing. Just a conversation, in the darkness.

"…" L stayed silent for a few moments, as though thinking. Until, finally, he spoke again, very slowly, as though trying to decipher his own words as he uttered them "I suppose…because whenever I hear that name…I become wary. In this way, I constantly remind myself of why I need to capture murderers."

Unable to help himself, Raito chuckled a bit. But it was neither cruel, nor mocking. It was, if anything, heartfelt "Are you…trying to say that you had morals?" he asked in clear disbelief, and pronounced caginess.

"Have you ever played computer detective games?" L suddenly asked, in a complete non sequitur. Raito noticed, although he had no idea why he would notice such a thing, that L was not talking to him in the third person, as he usually did. Actually, there were no names mentioned here at all.

Perhaps it was to aid the illusion. To make both of them forget who they were talking to…what they were saying…why it might have been important, at one time, to say all these things…and why it was of no consequence anymore.

Because they were dead. Their lives were over. And everything that was talked about from here on in…everything…would be completely, utterly useless and would result to nothing, just like the first time Raito had ever written in the Death Note.

"Where did that come from?" Raito asked, wondering amusedly if L had been hiding a cyber gamefreak under all those snide comments for all this time. That would have been typical of the detective, wouldn't it?

"Have you?" L persisted, and, even though they were staring at each other in the dark, neither of them could see a thing, which was all for the better.

"Well…what do you think?" Raito answered, deciding to humour L for now "…I always win, by the way."

"Then you must know that, in two consecutive games, the same player may actually be asked to play first as the detective and then as the murderer." L explained, his voice taking on a tutoring tone.

"What does that have to do with your sense of morals?" Raito asked, but there was a bit of an exasperated faint smile on his face, as though having resigned himself to the fact that there would never be clarity about this person's way of thinking.

"You're just playing the game because you like playing it. But even so, how do you feel when you, as the impartial and largely careless player, are asked to play as the detective?" L asked, and Raito was listening so carefully at the words that he didn't pay attention to the way the inflection had changed…the way L's voice seemed to come alive now, in the blackness, when each of them felt like they were talking to themselves.

"How do I…'feel'?" Raito considered the strangeness of this question, but decided, for better or for worse, to tolerate it "Well…I 'feel' righteous. Justified. And also, if I'm up against a murderer…afraid, perhaps? For my own life? Is that what you're getting at?" he answered, and he hoped that L would not lead this conversation into a form of insult at Kira, because that would be too cliché.

But actually, L continued speaking solidly, as though following a script in his mind. Raito wondered if, perhaps, the detective had been thinking about this subject all this time. Had L actually…_needed_ to talk? "You are correct. And, even in a fake situation of a video game, this can be experienced. When opposing killers… the more time that passes and the more intense the battle is… the wearier and more exposed you become, the more you start to fear for you own life. For if you are searching for them, then they are searching for you…And he has an advantage over you, in that he can wipe you out instantly, whilst you have to gain social approval in order to dispose of him. " it sounded like a confession.

It sounded like an opening to L's mind.

It was frightening.

"Yes" Raito condoned, keeping his sense of surrealism to his mind "but you're talking about fear, not morality."

"Indeed" L agreed, and Raito heard the clicking sound of nails being bitten once more "Fear is a powerful adversary. The more intense it becomes, the flimsier the reasons for which not to give into it. And this is where morality comes in."

Raito nodded, even though L couldn't see his gesture. "So you mean, many detectives use the fact that they feel heroic and justified…they use their disgust against the acts of murder to convince themselves to risk their lives…Fair enough." A small pause followed, during which Raito narrowed his eyes a bit awkwardly "But I wouldn't have pegged _you_ for that kind…Idealistic was the last thing I'd call you."

"True, my sense of morality was not strong back then" L said, and the way he proclaimed in so self-assuredly almost provoked Raito to ask him what had caused the change, and if that change was real. But then, Raito remembered the beginning of their symbiosis here in Mu, and the way L had defended that woman from a band of thugs…and he thought that L might actually not be lying…maybe he had…changed? "My will to defeat the opponent and stroke my arrogance was always enough to sustain me, through the hardest of situations….I never hid that nature from anyone." The former detective said, almost in an afterthought.

"But…?" Raito asked, because the way L had intoned his words had seemed as thought there would be a contradiction, somewhere.

"But in a case as demanding as 'Killer', it always helped to remind myself of the morality of the matter, as well. …not that it helped significantly. " L concluded, a bit disgruntled.

"So you didn't manage to find your inner idealist after all." Raito remarked, more in a friendly than a critical tone. Even so, L seemed to take it offensively.

"Why sound so disapproving, Raito-kun? I don't see why people cannot seem to understand it, no matter how obvious I make it for them." L started, and Raito humourously wondered if he was actually listening to the detective's equivalent of a personal rant "If I had this kind of ideological dedication then I wouldn't be good at my job. It's _because_ I do not have any such attachment that I am…was…so successful as a detective."

"You don't even take a stand in Kira's case, where thousands of people were involved?" Raito asked a bit incredulously, as though it was hard for him to imagine.

"Of course I do. My work is considered Law Enforcement. Do you understand what that means?" L asked, and it sounded, at this point, like he was explaining this to some invisible person rather than Raito himself. As though this was something that he'd needed to explain all along…even though Raito hadn't provoked him at all. "I enforce the existing laws, which, in my personal opinion, happen to be much more mature than Kira's idea of justice."

"Ha!" Raito exclaimed, before he could stop himself "So you do have an opinion after all!"

"As I said all along, in the bottom line, 'Ryuuzaki' was very much a perversion of mine." L stated with a tone of finality, the act of changing the subject not even camouflaged. But Raito found he didn't care for it.

But even though young Kira didn't know the backdrop of the history between L and B, judging simply by the fact that B looked obsessed with L, and the fact that they both knew Wammy…B must be someone from L's mysterious British past. In any case, even though Raito made it his new goal to gain information about this questionable relationship…he supposed he could already surmise the kind of 'perversion' L was talking about.

"I assume you're referring to emotions of egotism, and self-satisfaction where it isn't due." Raito commented, running his palm over his thigh, in the unconscious effort to warm himself a bit. It actually was starting to get quite chilly.

"Yes." L stated simply, and did not elaborate.

A few minutes of peaceful silence passed, during which the both of them stared at the wooden floor, each lost in his own musings. Then, as though suddenly remembering it, Raito raised his head again.

"But you didn't tell me…what are the feelings of an impartial player when he becomes the murderer…?" he asked, his voice lower, and perhaps sounding a bit more hesitant, than he meant for it to be.

After a brief pause, L's voice calming in its bass quality, permeated the air around them "Well…I supposed you already know that kind of feeling, don't you? " a few moments of stillness followed, before L's voice erupted once again "It is quite thrilling, being confident you have the power to kill anyone who you deem unworthy."

Silence covered the space between them. And the more time passed, the more Raito realized he truly couldn't say anything to oppose that argument. He supposed it was true after all…regardless of his ideals…L's statement, if taken at face value…was correct.

"Yes, it was." Raito finally said, after an inordinate amount of time had gone by. Then, as an addendum, he reminded L "But I was never lying when I said that everything I did was to make the world a better place."

L answered naturally even to that – even this statement, which Near and Mogi and Matsuda had all scorned and degraded…L answered with at least some consideration "It is understandable why you'd think that way…and it is probably the reason why Kira was such a sympathetic figure to the public, against all odds…the problem with these issues of grand social scale is that, at this day and age, since mostly every conceivable ideology has already been conceived… it is safe to suppose that any social solution that is easy to envision is usually the erroneous one."

Raito stayed silent for a few moments, digesting that point of view. Finally, he answered "You mean that 'Kira' wasn't thought out well enough?"

"Well…I suppose you could say that." L answered, and his voice was skeptical in the darkness "I don't know if you realize the childishness behind it, yet, or..." The detective's tone was formed as an enquiry than a statement, in the same way someone would ask an indiscrete question. Raito didn't answer immediately, until he thought carefully about how he'd phrase his opinion on the matter.

"I…'ve…realized that it would never work the way I'd pictured it, so…in a sense…" He finished, not really sure if his point had actually come across. But L continued, apparently having understood Raito's point, and moved forward to a new one.

"But, in my personal opinion…you were very contradictory… as a person." The detective surmised, and Raito could just imagine L's face leaning to the one side, with those droopy eyes and the thumb stuck in his mouth.

"In what way?" the auburn haired man immediately asked, latching onto the chance to learn of peoples' – and especially this person's – impression of him.

"Well…even now, I wouldn't put it past you to believe that Kira's morality was the complete and true reason why you became what you became." L explained, and something flared in Raito's mind, like a reflexive movement.

"What do you mean? Morality _was_ the true reason why I became what I became." He countered, his voice now gaining a vaguely indignant tone. But, immediately, he thought of what L had just told him, and felt mortified for having just fallen face-first into such a trap.

"I rest my case." L said, as though Raito's behaviour had demonstrated his previous point "It was very contradictory of you, wishing to become the all powerful murderer, who has the world in his hand, and yet remain the straight-laced son of the Chief, all at the same time… It's unbelievable to think that you can be so intelligent and perceptive when it comes to many unsolvable problems, and yet at the same time be so blind concerning basic issues. This is where your deeper contradiction lies." L elaborated, his voice laced with incredulity.

But Raito clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth "That's not what I was trying to do…who said that I was trying to be both Kira and the Chief's son…?"

"Yes, you did. In a sense, you took the video detective game one step further. I believe that what you wanted, all along, was to make your life…interesting, by adding drama to it." L offered by way of explanation, hitting every single preconditioned mental denial that Raito had left "Because the things you chose to do all involved a one-on-one battle. If you don't actually kill people with your own hands, it's logical that you view it as a game, and then you can switch with ease between the mentalities of hunter and victim. It feels good being the justified detective, and equally good being the powerful killer …"

"Fair enough, L…" Raito frowned, unwilling to accept that the most crucial occurrences of his life had been a result of, as L called it 'need for drama'. In any case, he was not willing to debate with L on the detective's lack of morality. More importantly, something else that L had said had caught his interst "But even supposing that you are right, how does that constitute a contradiction? The only thing you've proved is that I like playing games."

"Yes, but by the very act of treating it as a game" L started, and Raito heard the floorboards creak as the detective probably leaned forward " you found a way to combine the two in a form of Godlike vigilante serial killer, which you wouldn't have become if not given the chance to kill humans without touching a hair from their bodies…Would you? In this way, you could keep both your twisted ideology and become a killer. But the need to be a killer is an emotional getaway, whilst the need to have a set of principles is the characteristic of a logical man. That's why I say, Raito-kun, that you are a contradiction, in the purest sense of the word."

"…but you can't deny that in the end I did elect the pathway of Kira…not of Yagami Raito. That was a permanent, steady choice." Raito said, preferring not to start debating on the details of L's argument, lest he discover that it came much too close to the truth. "Besides, finding both emotional and logical needs is characteristic of a human, don't you think? What is contradictory about that?"

"Hn…did you make a permanent choice?" L asked controversially, obviously doubtful about the whole concept "In that case, probably because you were unprepared for it…you didn't do as well at it as you should have, given your statistics."

"Excuse me?" Raito asked, caught in disbelief and not sure he'd just been reprimanded for not being a good enough…Kira.

"Your success with me – evidently temporary – was based on the metaphysical weapon you were holding, which I didn't know about. If I'd known about the existence of the Death Note all along, like N and M obviously did, I would have pinned you in a matter of days."

"Ah" Raito started, and his voice was quite amused "so this is what this is all about then…Why didn't you say you were jealous they got all the glory? I'd understand."

"But do you deny that you relied on the preposterousness of your weapon instead of your wit? At least at first?" L countered, as though not even having heard Raito's words.

The auburn haired man, not happy to admit it but of course knowing it was useless to deny it, made a low unsatisfied sound "…Possibly…But this is justified, because of my own surprised disbelief at the time…"

"But that is why ours was considered an unequal battle – and that is why it is very embarrassing for you that I was able to sniff out something as obscure as the Death Note, despite your best efforts to hide it." L concluded rigidly, but this last statement struck a particular nerve.

"Hold on a second there…did you forget exactly who helped you 'sniff out' the Death Note in the first place, or do you just have selective memory in the afterlife?" Raito asked, his tone growing offended.

But L was not phased "The reason why you outshone me at that time, as both of us know, was because of my disheartened nature – admittedly a flaw of mine."

"Wait…so…even though I helped you defeat me and you failed …you're basically calling me…inferior?" Raito asked, now starting to become a bit more than just offended.

Strangely enough, L managed to diffuse what tension had started building up through his next few words. "Certainly not. I just think, truly, that you were very unlucky in your life."

Raito was not entirely satisfied with that, either. But he was confused by the suddenness of it, which made most of his previous proud anger fade away " Why do you keep saying that? I don't think I was unlucky at all." He countered, and he started scratching the chaffed edges of his trousers with his nails a bit.

"Of course you don't. But the fact of the matter is, you did deserve much more than you were given." L's reflective voice echoed, making Raito's lips part slightly from disbelief at what he was hearing. He'd expected L to say the opposite…

"Unfortunately, the Death Note arrived in your hands before any other substantial thing could. Your problem was...you never got to work with top-class investigators, as you should have…You never got access to…well, to people like me, I suppose. When you did, it was for all the wrong reasons…and it was already too late."

Raito stayed quiet. His first urge was to ward off L's words, and claim that what he'd done as Kira was much more massive and important than anything he could have achieved as a simple detective, with…human powers. But then again, that wasn't really what L was arguing here…was it?

"You would have been much more suited for a path of that sort...you were mentally prepared for it." L surmised instantly, perhaps sensing the fact that Raito was swaying "Which was exactly why a sense of justice was the first thing that came to your mind when you received the Death Note. And then, what resulted was simply the projection of your unfulfilled desires on the only medium you had to greatness. You didn't want to have to wait ten years, to graduate Touou, in order to change the world…I can see the logic, Raito-kun. Or rather…the emotion." The detective finished, his tone that of a logical and reasonable conversationalist.

Would L…have had a discussion like this with Raito when they were alive. Probably not…even if Raito had been willing to, the young Yagami got the impression that…something in L must have changed as well, to enable him to talk so…calmly…about the most important and crucial battle of their lives, which had lead to their young deaths.

Raito didn't speak for the next few minutes. Truth be told, he felt like sighing, but he held it in. He didn't want to talk about all this anyway. Why had they winded up talking about this in the first place?

"I don't know L…This kind of supposition is useless…who knows what might have happened 'if'…but you can't deny that your life became much more interesting after Kira appeared, can you?" he asked, and allowed a rather mischievous tinge in his voice.

A small pause followed. And after that, L's voice again, flat and accepting. "No, I certainly can't deny that."

They stayed silent for a while, and only now realized how late the time actually was. It was now so dark inside the room that even the starlight was not enough to illuminate each other's features.

Raito had started sinking in his own thoughts before the other man's voice rung again, making the young Japanese refocus his attention with renewed interest.

" But about your strategies…I believe that if you'd actually constructed a structured plan from the beginning, and followed it 98.7 percent, then you might have actually had me fooled." L stated solidly, as though thinking the situation over anew.

"What do you mean?" Raito asked, with his curiosity piqued at the new turn of this discussion "If I remember correctly… not to brag… but I did. Win, that is." He didn't think that L himself would ever tell him about the way to win…

"I didn't say 'you would win'. I said 'you would have fooled me'. In my eyes, that would have been an even greater victory…because when it comes to me, murdering me is so much simpler than playing me for a fool." L said, and strangely enough, Raito found that he wasn't bothered by the shameless self-confidence. Actually, to be honest…he…rather liked it. It was like a challenge to his face. "I can understand your satisfaction upon defeating me with my knowledge of being defeated, hence the unnecessary dramatic ending to my life…but if you'd truly decided to become an all-powerful Kira, rather than a boy who wants to prove himself smarter than L, you would have played the game differently…and much more smartly." L started thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on his shins, a gesture which was lost on Raito in the darkness.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raito knew that he should be feeling very awkward about discussing L's death with L himself…but strangely, it wasn't half as unpleasant as Raito had thought it would be…actually…this was quite interesting. He was even willing to tolerate L calling him 'a boy' or 'inexperienced' if he could actually get to hear L's version of what a smart Kira-strategy would have been like.

"Go on…" Raito urged, and his expression as he looked at L in the darkness was reminiscent of the way a child would look at a magician: waiting for him to prove his unrealistic claims.

"With the Death Note in your hands, you could have turned the world upside down – even more so than you already did. The obvious first mistake was the fact that you started your career by killing criminals from Japan." L started, and, strangely enough, his voice was more akin to that of a reprimanding mentor than the person Raito had known until now. And even though L was technically insulting his sophisticated strategies, he was actually interested in hearing the continuation of this, if not for anything else, than simply to listen to L talking about this case from a completely opposite perspective.

Before Raito could say anything to defend his honour, however, L continued "But we can overlook that, considering that you were, at first, amazed at the powers of the Death Note, and wanted to test it on your immediate surroundings."

"All right." Raito agreed, prepared to be magnanimous with his pride when having this kind of discussion, because he knew that if he started caring too much, he would fail to talk logically at all. And he'd be caught with his head in a toilet before he'd let L prove himself to be a more reasonable man than himself "I know that the second mistake was Lind Taylor." He said, and L answered immediately.

"That goes without saying." The detective answered, and even though Raito had known it, it still stung to hear all his miscalculations laid out on the open. But on the flip side, this introduction to L's tactical thinking might actually be useful – Raito might learn something he hadn't yet considered. Namely…the way he could have defeated L even more efficiently. L continued his analysis "But even that I'm willing to overlook, on the grounds that you wanted to display godly power and cheap intimidation techniques."

Raito frowned a bit, but nodded nonetheless, forgetting that L could not see him in the darkness.

"The truly unforgivable mistake was only one, actually" L said rigidly, and, unconsciously, Raito leaned forward in intense concentration.

"The FBI agents… Stupid move." The investigator actually reprimanded, and, even if just for a minute, Raito wished he could see L's face, look at those eyes. Would they be wide or narrow…? Raito couldn't imagine L's current expression, since he'd never seen or heard L in such a conspiracy-complacent mood before.

"That was truly the thing that led to all your problems. You killed them, even though you could have persevered. And then, of course, you paid the price for your insolence: the moment they installed the cameras, regardless of whether or not you did anything…I was onto you. There was no true way you could alleviate the suspicion from the moment your profile fell in my hands. You were a perfect match."

"Eliminating Penber and the other agents was not baseless at all. They were compromising my…" Raito started, slightly offended, but mostly scandalized.

"No they…"

From outside the hut, their voices could be heard for a few feet around the hut's perimeter. Sometimes, a particularly loud exclamation would echo around the landscape. In all probability, not even the two of them realized how loud they were actually being, or else they would have definitely toned down their excited drivel.

As it was, however the unusual sounds of life sliced through the air until the wee hours of the morning, when exhaustion finally started to catch up to their fatigued limbs, and their eyes could simply stay open no longer.

-

In some surprising ways, Mu was very much like living in the countryside. Sometimes, depending on where one was located, in the beginning of the day one could hear the unmistakable call of the roosters. This was probably a source of great plight for chronic late risers, and glee for old-fashioned grandmothers everywhere.

Raito was mostly impartial to it, but today, he had to join in with chronic late risers. This was just pure torture…where _were_ these birds hiding, anyway? It was impossible to track them down in the outskirts of Mu, but, if the were truly untraceable, how was it possible for their ghastly voices to be heard so loudly?

Raito cracked one eye open gingerly, knowing better than to allow the cruel morning light to penetrate his mind before he wasn't ready. What time had they slept last night? No, it hadn't been night…it had been morning! This was why Raito now felt so utterly thrashed, not having slept for more than a total of three hours before the offensive roosters had woken him once again.

And unfortunately, he seemed to have fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position as well. Now his neck ached, with that absolutely aggravating form of stinging pain.

Managing to open both his eyes, he drowsily turned to his left, more out of habit than anything else. Sure enough, he was met with the sight he'd been searching for: L's black hair were fanned out on the floor, the white shirt and denim jeans scrunched around his gangly body as he lay on his side, wrapped around himself even when lying down, like always.

Raito was just about to close his eyes again when he noticed a small detail. He blinked slowly and focused on it: L's marred throat, which, instead of its usual white smoothness, today featured a line of purple-blue bruises.

_That__ psycho…_

Raito stared at the mark for a few minutes, staring in spite of himself. He could see the outline of fingers, where B had probably used his entire force to strangle L. Every time L breathed in, a small line would form between his eyebrows and he'd cringe a little. It probably hurt like hell to lie down without a pillow, especially when his throat was at such a delicate state…

Recognizing the need to get to his feet, Raito gingerly started sending energy down his limbs, forcing them to obey, even when they felt like putty from tiredness. This would not do. They had better wake up and continue their journey to nowhere now, when it was still so early, or else they might miss the chance to meet Misa or Watari…

But wait…on second thought, Watari…

Raito sat up, using his elbow to support his weight as his mind escaped to renegade thoughts. Without realizing it, his eyes were still fixed on the small lump of L's white-clad torso, which rose and fell calmly, at ease for once. Raito became lost in thought, hypnotized by that fluid, repetitive movement.

Watari…if B had said was true, then he'd met Watari…was Watari really…not looking for L? The more that Raito thought about it, the more preposterous it sounded. And, for some reason, the faster it made his heart beat…Watari wasn't looking for L…then who would L search for?

L would…

But, despite Raito's uninvited excitement about the whole matter, if he wanted to think logically about it, there was no way the old man, who'd spent all his time with the detective and was practically like an adopted father – or even his real father, who knows with these two! – would not be searching for L. Then again, who knew if Watari really was looking for a long lost wife that no one knew anything about…

But on the other hand, B didn't seem like the most trustworthy individual imaginable…should they really take his words at face value…? He might have made the whole thing up just to spite L.

And L…he probably wasn't taking this whole matter as lightly as he pretended. Watari was the only thing they hadn't talked about last night….it was as though the detective was even avoiding mentioning his name…

Was the geezer really so important, then?

Raito pushed himself away from the floor, resting his arms on his bent knees, and looked away from the other man. What was so special about an old man like who could appear and disappear very fast, anyway? It's not as though he could bring L chocolates here in Mu…regardless of whether Watari was looking for him or not, L should just…just…

'_Just what?_' Raito wondered, annoyed at himself for no reason, yet again. He turned to look at the rare sight of the sleeping detective once again, staring at L's resting face. It was not all that different from L's waking face, except for the closed eyes. But perhaps even that was enough to make a difference, since, right now, L just looked harmless…

It was only when he opened his laser-beam eyes that the real power within was revealed. The power to bring people to their knees with just a stare, Raito thought, and turned his eyes away, stopping his thoughts right there.

Ryuuzaki was probably…his age? He looked young, but not young enough to be a freshman in Tou-ou. How would Ryuuzaki have looked like when he was a teenager, Raito wondered, turning back to stare at the quiet detective, in spite of himself. Probably thinner. Raito could vaguely imagine him, more as an aura than an actual visualization: skinny, awkward…full of knobby knees and knuckles…a shorter, slimmer version of his current self, with smaller clothes and longer hair, perhaps…or shorter hair? Raito couldn't imagine…

But actually, Raito knew that L was not really as scrawny or as weak as he seemed when wearing those clothes. Actually, L had muscles, and he had strength…Raito unconsciously brought his hand to stroke his chin, which had fallen victim to a spiral kick perhaps one too many times…But actually, L wasn't as malnourished as he looked…he had-

Unfortunately, the act of thinking about L's physical traits only led to the inevitable reminder that Raito had been helping L take showers for all this time. Which, in turn, led to a second reminder: namely, that they'd have to take a shower today as well…maybe in a few minutes, when L woke up too.

Unexpectedly, upon the mere thought of it, Raito's heart erupted so hard that it threatened to spill out of his ribcage. Shower…? He thought the word over and over; twisting and repeating it in his thoughts, but it still didn't make him feel any less uncomfortable, or untie the knot that had suddenly established itself in his stomach.

'_What's the big deal…It's just a shower, we do it every day…_' Raito thought, trying to quench all this unexplainable sudden panic via use of logic. He climbed to stand on his feet, now turning to look over L's still body from above.

'_I should wake him up…' _Raito internally disciplined himself. But even though he did intend to do so, the moment he took a step toward L, he paused again _'Well…maybe I could just…let him sleep for a while longer…no need to rush…'_

Raito thought to himself, and his tumultuous heart was only too glad to agree with that suggestion. Deciding that he should make himself useful and that it was very justifiable that he would leave the hut, he all but ran to the door.

Careful to keep his movements silent, he hoped that the old piece of wood wouldn't start creaking. The fact that L hadn't even awoken with the offensive screeching of the roosters must be an indication of the detective's extreme tiredness…so Raito should let him sleep.

The door did creak a bit, but Raito could forgive a small sound, if it meant that he could exit the interior of the cabin, which had suddenly become stifling.

He stepped outside, feeling the red dirt beneath his bare feet and wincing a bit. Since it was very early in the morning, the sky still retained a light blue glow, which gave a sheen of underwater colour to all the surroundings. The dirt on the ground, which Raito knew to be brick-red, was now a deep brown colour…and the sharp metals and destroyed objects dispersed around him all retained a blue shine.

Without stalling any longer, Raito sat on the doorstep of the cabin, wearing his shoes quickly and efficiently. It was, perhaps, an unconscious effort to move away from the hut as soon as possible. And away from L…

He grabbed the pink bucket's handle slowly, and wondered with a slightly raised eyebrow why they always seemed to end up with ridiculously coloured buckets. In any case, he had better go and fill it up. They'd need it very soon, anyway, so why not go search for a source of water from early on…?

It took a bit longer than he'd calculated to find a proper tap. Usually, these hydraulic devices were attached to the back part of buildings, or they just randomly appeared amongst the piles of useless discarded objects in the junkyards, which seemed to be everywhere in Mu.

But this time, he'd been forced to walk down the entire hill before he could find a proper one, and then climb back up again. It must have taken slightly more than forty minutes, in total, and, quite obviously, they wouldn't be able to make many trips back and forth. He'd tell L to come take a shower near the tap, later…

Raito was just thinking about whether or not he should enter a house to get some new clothing for both of them today, when he opened the door to the hut.

His hectic thoughts slowed down as he took in L's figure, sitting down on the floor, amongst a pile of blankets, with his knees drawn to his chest and his back to the door.

There was nothing abnormal about it per se…it was how L usually liked to sit wasn't it? And yet, today, it seemed rather strange, somehow…as though…

Upon hearing Raito's footsteps, the detective turned around slowly, his circle-rimmed eyes suddenly seeming exceptionally large, and his face unhealthily pale. Raito suppressed a completely uninvited flush from spreading across his face. What was wrong with him?! This was just L…Just…L, who he'd spent the entirety of last night talking to…and…was he flushing even more?

"Oh…Good morning." Raito said, more from an impending sense of discomfort and than anything else. With the detective piercing him with his gaze so directly…Raito had almost forgotten about it after those long hours of darkness, last night, when L's entity had just been a voice…not the man himself.

But L looked so…exhausted today. His face was so sallow that-

Suddenly, a thought struck Raito, like a bolt of lightning, and he turned to look at the bucket, which lay guiltlessly outside the front door. His eyes widened as he turned to stare at the detective again "How long have you been awake?" he asked, keeping his voice as nonchalant as possible.

"…" L didn't speak for a few moments, until finally, with a slow, unhurried movement, he stood up, bending to gather and fold his blanket "…not that long. Did you get some water?"

"Yes" Raito said, internally relieved. For a moment, he'd thought that L had been worried…but of course L would not worry. He didn't worry about anything…Although, having learned that Watari may not be searching for him, the detective may have become jumpy…but no, no. L seemed fine. As always…

Raito stared at the detective for a few moments, until L's questioning eyes made him avert his gaze "Yes" Raito repeated, hating his sudden sense of disorientation. He followed L's example and walked across the cabin floor, reaching for his own blanket and folding it. They'd be needing it again come tomorrow... "It turns out there isn't a tap for almost three-quarters of a mile. I basically had to walk to the High Street."

L didn't respond for a few moments, and Raito, feeling guilty for absolutely no reason, and then frustrated with himself for feeling guilty for absolutely no reason, stared at the back of the other man's silent head.

"Well then we probably can't stay here this morning." the resident Sherlock finally concluded, and Raito figured that if L had time to sound like that, then he was probably all right.

It didn't take long for them to gather their meager belongings and start walking down the hill. They remained careful, as always, not to bump into any dangerous objects, lest hallucinations start appearing in front of their eyes, as was the popular tendency in this place.

After last night, Raito didn't really know what to do. He failed to recognize the fact that he shouldn't really be thinking about what to and what not to do, and instead allowed these unprecedented thoughts to spin around his brain, crowding his thinking capacity.

They'd been…well they'd been spilling their guts to each other last night. This was highly unorthodox, and also highly abnormal…what was L thinking now…?

What was Raito supposed to act like, after all that…? His voice was scratchy from talking so much, for goodness sake. He must have talked more last night than he had for the entirety of his living existence…And now what? Was he supposed to act like they were best buddies? He didn't really want to…but L…what was _L_ thinking…?

Perhaps he should just continue walking, Raito instructed himself. Everything was continuing as normal: he was looking for Misa and L for…for Watari, and that was the end of it. Last night wasn't really…it was just a way to keep their brains alert. It didn't really mean anything.

Even so, showering that morning was a tempestuous affair.

Raito didn't really want to take his clothes off, and when he finally couldn't avoid it any longer, he kept looking down at the ground to avoid L's eyes at all costs, which was not only uncharacteristic of him, but also extremely mortifying. Why couldn't he just…be normal? But every time he told himself to come back to his senses and act naturally, memories of last night, when they'd been talking animatedly, returned to his mind.

And now, this same person was…

'_It's just__…so embarrassing! This emotion…must be humiliation!'_ Raito thought angrily, frowning despite himself as a curtain of water rained from the top of his head, down to the ground.

But he wasn't really furious at L either. Or maybe he was? Why was L acting so typical, anyway? Didn't he…feel uncomfortable about this situation at all!?

Raito decided to tell L not to shed water only on his back, but, when he opened his mouth to speak, he found that no sound would come out, so he closed it again. How does one speak to a person that one is supposed to detest, after a night of talking on…well, on…less than hostile terms?

When Ryuuzaki's turn to wash up came, the situation became even worse, as always.

Raito watched a stray dog with mangled black and brown fur walk slowly toward the small alley between two nearby buildings, which led to the high street. Raito stared absently at the stray animal for a few moments, watching as the dog disappeared from sight amongst the bodies of the countless people in the street.

But even the thought that Misa might be one of those people and that Raito might be missing his chance to meet her was not enough to alleviate his current principal feeling of distress. Besides, he wasn't so sure about this concept of 'finding the one who is looking for you' at all anymore…Hadn't L found B, a person who was obviously looking for him…? Therefore…why hadn't L gone to heaven…?

At that thought, Raito's hand slipped on the heavy bucket, and the container fell from his fingers onto L's naked shoulder, causing the detective to let out a surprised grunt of pain.

"Oh, sorry!" Raito started, his palm hovering a bit over L's shoulder, unsure of whether to touch the other man for support or not. Besides, there was water all over L's skin…and for Raito to touch it would be quite risky… "… Are you okay…? Your throat is…?"

"It's fine." L reassured quietly, rubbing his shoulder a bit. Raito immediately pulled his hand away, as though electrified. He retrieved the bucket silently, mentally cursing himself the whole time...L had seriously gotten quite roughed up these last few days, and Raito, with his sudden inability to hold onto objects, was making it worse. What on earth was wrong with him, anyway? He was acting as though he was back in pre-school: awkward, uncontrolled movements…he wasn't thinking clearly…what was his problem?!

Again agitated at himself more than anyone, he walked toward the tap, setting the bucket beneath it.

As though to taunt him, the stray mutt from before appeared once again, literally running away from the High Street. Not even animals wanted to remain where the two men would be forced to enter in just a few minutes. The amber-eyed man stared at the mutt's pathetic fur and furrowed his brow a bit, his annoyance evaporating slightly as he became lost in thought.

"D'you think dogs can see the same hallucinations as humans?...or do they have their own Dog Mu?" Raito asked, speaking to himself more than asking the detective a question. This was why, when he heard L's deep bass voice echo from a few feet nearby, he was rather jarred from his reverie.

"Well, after all, animal humanization _is_ as old as time." L commented noncommittally, and Raito turned to stare at him with a pensive expression.

"Yes…but you're implying that human attempts to humanize them are actually completely different from whether or not they have human traits… Raito commented, looking at the stray, which ignored them completely and continued sniffing the ground in search for food, not knowing it was being gossiped about. "…actually, they might have, without our knowing." Raito concluded

"That_is_ the general argument of the humanization principle…which is why starting this debate is always completely and utterly pointless." L concluded solidly, and Raito, who was looking at him, blinked rapidly, and turned away.

"Pointless eh…?" Raito muttered a bit, and his eyes conspicuously fell to the bucket, which was now overflowing with water, and then back to L, who was sitting there looking at the dog, completely unperturbed…A small grin started spreading over the lower part of Raito's face, as it did often when wicked ideas entered his mind. "Well then..." he started, and calmly picked the bucket's handle.

"Then how's _this_!?"

A few seconds later, the birds that were gathered on a railing nearby flew off rapidly, scattering in the sky like cherry blossom leaves. Their frail hearts could not withstand sudden splashing sounds.

-

Since the weather was so very cold today, and since they needed to rest anyway, they decided to sit down and enjoy their lunch. Of course, 'enjoying' the food was quite a relative term, which was not altogether accurate, when associated with the molding fruits and nauseating odours of Mu.

Nevertheless, after what had happened that morning, what with the childishness of the entire concept, they both felt that they should be feeling much guiltier than they did about acting like a pair of retarded prepubescent boys. Therefore, Raito, who was guilty about not feeling guilty, contented himself with a temporary reprieve from being alone with each other, staying in the high street where they were surrounded by people – even if these people functioned more as columns of ice than parts of an interactive environment. Now the two of them were sitting on the side of the road, against the fence of a rather quaint small house.

"I spy …" the bored drawl dragged on. But instead of scanning the area for search of something to say, the man's auburn eyes stayed fixed on his partner's ebony ones, and his jaw muscles were tense. "… 'p'." It was funny that, whenever he was competing about something, even if that something was the most ridiculous or inconsequential thing in the world, Raito would tend to become so deadly serious.

"Peg." L replied instantly, without even thinking about it.

"No." Raito said, almost savouring the word as it fell from his lips.

That self-satisfied expression alone was enough to tell the detective that Raito had indeed been thinking of the word 'peg', but was now switching, just to try and fabricate a challenge. A slow, relaxed grin spread over Raito's face, as he leaned back against the wooden fencing, bringing his fruit to his mouth and taking a quick, mildly repulsed bite.

"Pole...pliers...your food" Ryuuzaki humoured the other man temporarily, simply because there were currently no hallucinations around them to keep him occupied. He noticed that Raito was holding a pomegranate, and thought that it was worth a shot, however unlikely.

Raito grinned some more, failing to suppress it. "No, no and no."

L narrowed his eyes. He'd been choosing objects which were situated out of Raito's field of vision, believing that the other man would try to disorient the opponent by not even looking toward the direction of the thing he was referring to. But now it became obvious that Raito wasn't in the mood to play fair – he kept switching directives even though Ryuuzaki had obviously succeeded in finding the word.

L decided that two could play this game. He looked pointedly at the people around them, having no trouble detecting something. "Paranoia." He decided, but Raito shook his head negatively.

Then, finally, L's eyes fell to the side of the street, seeing a very blurry image of something moving in a small dark orifice. He turned to look back at Raito, a bored look in his eyes "'Porcupine', Raito-kun."

"At last, success." Raito said dismissively, closing his eyes as he bit down on his fruit, obviously trying to distract himself from looking at what he was forced to eat. Instead of getting annoyed at the auburn haired man, L ignored the entire outcome of the game, focusing on his own food. Perhaps sitting down for lunch had been a bad idea, after all. It put emphasis on the task at hand, which was defeating the purpose. It would have been better if they'd walked while eating, as usual. At least then they'd have something to do while chewing on that horrible lint of food and being forced to sit next to each other... because unfortunately, even though they'd stayed here to avoid being alone, there was still a sense of discomfort between them...a form of shared guilt, as though they knew that this…this…whatever that they were doing was…abnormal.

"But what is the meaning" L started, bringing his own fruit right in front of his eyes and keeping his fingers lodged on it like a pair of surgical handles on a heart implant "of us feeling famished on a permanent basis?"

Raito looked at the distance as he chewed, listening to the other man's words but unwilling to look at Ryuuzaki for extended periods of time. When he looked away while listening to L's voice, it felt a bit… like last night. In the darkness, when L had not been L, but just a…a formless voice. Something in Raito's own head…

"Even though we scarcely eat, we don't grow thinner" L remarked, widening his eyes at the little fruit he was holding, as though it held all the answers to the metaphysical mysteries of the afterlife "Which can only imply that the point of this feeding ritual is the constant hunger, not the actual need for energy."

"Yes. Constant insatiability is perhaps an innovative way to torture us." Raito agreed calmly, but he bit on his fruit a tad more viciously than necessary and avoided L's eyes, looking instead at the masses of silent people walking by.

"That's exactly my point. Why bother to torture us this late in the process? It's nonsensical...perhaps torture is not the ultimate goal, here." L tapped his thumb against his lips, until, finally, he let it sink in his mouth, making wet sounds as he licked at it. This was his 'investigator' face.

But from beside him, instead of just ignoring it as he usually did, Raito temporarily stopped gnawing at his fruit, his eyes stilling on Ryuuzaki's finger.

A few moments passed, and they both stayed silent. The auburn haired man obviously hadn't realized he was staring rather rudely, or else he would have resumed eating immediately. L, obviously sensing he was being so intently stared at, turned around after a while.

"Raito-kun?"

These simple words were enough to jerk Raito out of his small trance, since he hadn't heard them often over the last few hours. He suppressed his reflex to turn away immediately, lest his discomfort become obvious. Instead he settled for a less discriminating expression of disinterest, and slowly turned back to his fruit.

But after that, strangely, the detective's talkative mood seemed to disintegrate, as though he knew that the mood had changed. L turned his body slightly away from the chestnut haired man, looking at the pedestrians with his wide eyes as he chewed.

From beside him, Raito had pulled his knees upwards and was resting his elbow on one of them. He still held the fruit in front of his mouth. But, unable to help himself, for some reason, his eyes still skipped to the other man, this time looking at L's curved back. Raito's mouth slowly opened, closing over the smooth surface of the fruit but not biting on it, as he looked at the skin on the back of L's neck. So smooth and white, despite the bruises…

Sometimes, Raito thought, it was hard to believe. It was so surreal to think that this creature was beside him. Everything, from the foetal position to the extremely pale skin and the delicate bone structure of the nape...Raito had convinced himself that he'd never see it again, to the extent that he was now having difficulty believing that he was not currently sitting beside some product of his own imagination.

All the days and nights of wishing and praying that L would be wiped off the face of the earth…ironically, they'd all led to this one moment. This moment, when, as though nothing had ever changed, L was here. He was…back.

"L?" he decided he wanted to call the other, all of a sudden. For no reason.

And indeed, the person beside him turned around immediately upon hearing the name, eyes wide and expression questioning.

"…?"

Raito looked at the other for a few moments, at the soft fabric of the white shirt, which seemed to remain the same forever. The Japanese man opened his mouth slightly and then closed it again, as though wanting to say something but thinking better of it. "Forget it." he concluded, internally cursing himself for sounding idiotic.

"Are you sure you're all right?" the detective inquired, and Raito felt insulted that Ryuuzaki was obviously treating him like an infant after that morning. It's not as though he was stupid, and-

Suddenly, with a flurry of movement, L stood up, wiry arms pushing him upwards and long thin legs bouncing underneath the denim jeans. Raito shook his head inconspicuously as Ryuuzaki was standing up, trying to determine how it was possible for him to suddenly notice all these particularities about L's body.

It was probably because they bathed together every morning, Raito reminded himself. Those horrible showering rituals…That's why he now knew all these details-

"-want another one?" Ryuuzaki's voice suddenly wrung, and the other man's auburn eyes, which had been unfocused on the ground before, shot up immediately. After a few awkward seconds, Raito opened his mouth slightly, his eyes a bit narrowed. As he sat down there, beside the standing Ryuuzaki, he felt so short, suddenly. So…stupid.

"I…what?" he simply asked, seeming a bit jumpy all of a sudden. It was understandable, since Ryuuzaki's current standing pose was making him a bit nervous. It seemed as though L was preparing to leave. Where was he going? Why had he stood up all of a sudd-

"I'm off to get another fruit. Does Raito-kun want one?" Ryuuzaki repeated his previous offer, evidently not phased by Raito's discomfort. The auburn haired man seemed to relax slightly, not even realizing himself how tense he'd previously been. He slightly shook his head, and Ryuuzaki nodded, turned around and slowly walked toward the mass of people, who were gathered in the wide street.

Raito didn't realize that he'd been keeping his eyes fixed on L's back, until he saw L's white shirt disappear behind the dark shapes of other people moving. Reflexively, Raito sat up a bit, blinking. He swallowed and took another quick, rather furtive bite from his fruit.

Now that he finally had a moment of ultimate privacy – despite being in a quintessentially public place – thoughts started rushing through his head. He tried to decipher why his behaviour lately had been so erratic, and why he seemed to be feeling constantly frustrated. Unfortunately, however, his self-psychoanalyzing session didn't seem to be going as well as he'd hoped. He wasn't reaching any enlightening conclusions any time soon.

And, to his great quandary, this time he couldn't blame it all on L either. Because, after all, L was neither forcing Raito to stay, nor doing anything particularly frustrating for Raito to be angry at. Overall, generally sp-

Raito's thoughts froze immediately, a chill climbing up his spine. Was that…? His heart started hammering immediately, and it took some willpower to force himself not to jump to his feet, lest he betray himself.

A few moments passed, during which he did everything in his power to act completely naturally. He stared around again, pretending to be calm and composed, but, inevitably, as though a moth to a flame, his eyes were drawn back to the source of his plight. Unbidden, thoughts started to crawl in his mind, and, no matter how he tried to suppress them by looking around, they wouldn't leave him be. In the meantime, he was cursing L for taking so much time. What was taking so long..?

Raito reasoned with himself, knowing that logic was the ultimate ally in times of unbidden paranoia. Everything was perfectly fine. L would come, Raito would wordlessly tell him what was happening, and together they'd-

Where was he, damn it? Why was he so late…?

Suddenly, completely unbidden, a second thought crossed Raito's mind, nearly making his breath stop. What if L…wasn't planning to come back…? Had he decided that Raito was being too…too…overbearing? The auburn haired man didn't want to sound like a little boy in a supermarket, reluctant to let his mother out of his sight. But that's exactly what he was doing now, wasn't it? Had Ryuuzaki abandoned him…? It was possible…after all, Raito had murdered him…Ryuuzaki did hate him, at least a little bit…he must. In his state of perpetual confusion, Raito couldn't truly evaluate L's possible reasons for wanting to leave What if-?

The feeling of overwhelming relief that flooded Raito's system upon seeing the glow of that damnable white shirt was enough to shock even Raito himself. But at the same time, the panic of before was rejuvenated, and upon seeing L, the Japanese man fought to keep his face completely neutral, so as not to betray anything.

"Long queue." Ryuuzaki simply said by means of explanation, verifying Raito's musings of before. The auburn haired man automatically grabbed the fruit that L had offered him, his expression steeling over in order to prevent its true nature from showing.

"No problem." Raito said, his voice the epitome of total neutrality. Ryuuzaki looked at him a bit quizzically, not moving from his standing position and continuing to awkwardly stand there, until Raito, whose adrenaline was soaring by now, whispered, in a rather urgent voice: "_Sit down._"

L stared at him for a few moments more, forcing Raito to turn and look at him again, as meaningfully as he could. Catching the drift, the detective folded his long legs, setting himself in the place beside the other man.

The auburn haired Asian brought the fruit in front of his mouth and pretended to take a long bite on it. Some people, like him, seemed to be born with the ability to exercise art of ventriloquism, rather than needing to practice it. Thankfully, L was also such a person, so the two of them could find some common ground.

"He's following us." Raito stated, chewing on a bite of food. A few seconds later, he felt L's eyes trained on him. And then, finally, the jaw-dropping answer came.

"I know."

"_What?_" Raito immediately asked, careful to keep a natural visage, despite the unmistakable fury in his voice. From outside, it looked as though he was talking to L about the weather, regardless of what he was actually saying.

L strategically placed a thumb in his mouth, and turned his head in a way that would keep him completely concealed from the enemy's eyes "He can read your lips." The detective simply said, his voice akin to the whisper he'd used at that critical day when he'd first said _"I'm L."_.

Raito didn't need to be told twice. He stopped talking altogether and focused completely on his fruit, biting at it a bit more viciously than necessary. And more than anything, staring at the side of Ryuuzaki's worn out white tennis shoes, he felt something akin to fear climbing into his heart. A kind of fear he hadn't experienced in a very, very long time.

In fact, he hadn't felt it since that fatal day, when Ryuuku had stood in front of him with the Death Note in one hand and a pen in the other.

A horrid feeling. One that was able to chew your liver inside out, if you weren't careful with it: the knowledge that someone else was able to control aspects of your life, which had direct impact on your happiness.

Raito's jaw set. Out of the blue, without preamble, he kicked upwards, shooting to a standing position within seconds. He bent to gather their few possessions in his hands.

"Come on." He said in fabricated cheerfulness, and his eyes meticulously avoided the place where B had camouflaged himself across the street. But the red eyes were impossible to conceal…it was how Raito had managed to discover him in the first place.

L moved unhurriedly, standing up exactly as he would under normal circumstances. It was useful that the two of them were such good actors, or they wouldn't have managed to build such a high level of intercommunication so quickly.

The three minutes that it took for them to start walking down the street, moving along with the throng of people again, were torturous for Raito, whose heart was beating wildly, dancing in a frantic beat of anxiety.

Unfortunately, the fact that they'd start moving would mean that they'd lose track of their pursuer, but if they delayed moving any longer then it would seem overly suspicious.

And suddenly, Raito keenly recognized that, in Mu, there was no Death Note, no police…and the people surrounding them, however many, had their own problems to think of. And even if one did somehow manage to restrain a criminal…there was no way to kill anyone, since they were all already dead.

"Since when?" Raito simply asked as they walked, side by side, keeping a moderate pace. He kept his voice low, and hated this situated with an incomparable passion, for it reminded him of all the worst periods of his life.

"This morning" L answered, and Raito did not bother with asking why L hadn't informed him of this. It was obvious that the detective knew something – no, many things – about B that Raito didn't, and it would be more hazardous than constructive to let Raito know…

But still…being left in the dark stung more than Raito liked to think.

However, his own unexplained, aggravating emotions were the last of his problems right now. With '_Ryuuzaki'_ on their track and no form of defense against violence except their own fists, the only solution, Raito knew, was to try and disorient the hunter; shake him off their tail.

It was very easy to become lost in Mu, Raito reassured himself…all they had to was to make sure they knew where they were going, knew where he was located at any given moment and knew the opportune moment to make themselves literally 'lost'…but this was all much easier said then done, and…

It was then that Raito's eyes fell on it. Completely at random. And the unbidden thought, however distasteful, crawled to his mind.

House.

The one place in Mu which would have a locked door.

They'd have to time it correctly, of course…they'd have to disappear in a house right when B would lose track of them…and then, they'd escape his grasp…they'd stay in the house, and then…

"L-" Raito started saying, his fists growing clammy at his sides. But just as he was about to make the utterly preposterous suggestion, that not even he was sure he wanted to propose, a loud, deafening noise interrupted him.

The detective and his ex-suspect turned around immediately, to detect where the shrillness was coming from. Many people around them covered their ears with their hands and started quickly walking toward the exits of the High Street, but both Raito and L stayed put in the rapidly panicking crowd, staring flabbergasted at the rare spectacle, rather than fully understanding what was going on.

At first, it looked beautiful, like a rain of comets, or glowing stars. They ran through the darkened evening sky, glowing like fireflies in the night. The kept coming closer and closer, exhibiting that horrible screeching sound.

But soon, the people in the street were running frantically to all four directions, taking shelter wherever they could, running out of the High Street, into houses… It didn't take long for Raito, who'd been gawking at the sky in a form of speechless incomprehensibility, to realize that these…glowing fireballs…or whatever they were…were not stopping.

They kept coming closer.

The auburn haired man took a step back, and then another. His loosened his grip on the bucket and blankets he was holding, just as the little stones crumbled beneath his leather soles.

"Go…go…"

His former predicaments now completely forgotten, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide, he suddenly turned around, stretching a hand across L's chest and pushing the detective backward as well, since L had still been staring upward, his eyes huge and pupils constricted.

"Go, go, go!!!!"

It didn't take long for the panic to settle in, and in a few seconds L had turned around as well. Now they were both running. Toward the closest alley, the closest exit. Anywhere!

Raito's eyes scanned the street as he ran, and he realized that, even though he could not hear it, most people must be screaming.

"L!" he called, as he saw the detective stumble, slipping on his improper shoes. Raito immediately grabbed the other man's arm, forcing him upwards.

They turned around, haunted, heading for the first dark alley they laid their eyes on. From behind them, the deafening sounds became ear-piercing. B had become a forgotten insect, now that the light around them was increasing, signifying that the…the fireballs?...were coming closer!

The moment of impact, an entire wave of vibration struck the earth, and Raito spiraled off his feet, tossed forward like a rag doll. From his side, even though the auburn haired man couldn't see him, L flew to the air as well, and tried to shield himself with his arms as he collapsed.

The earth kept shaking so strongly, that the once silent High Street of Mu had now become laced with the echoes of crumbling brick and rattling stone. The screaming hallucinations didn't pause their nightmarish scenes even for a second, oblivious to the peril around them.

And Raito, who tried to recover his strength in a desperate attempt at survival, cradled his bleeding cheek as he crawled sideways. He grabbed L shoulder, seeing that the man was still trying to recuperate from his harsh fall, and Raito let his fingers fist around the white fabric of the loose shirt.

Without speaking, he dragged the other man, forcing L to start moving again, if only slightly. Until finally, the black haired detective managed to get back to his senses and start moving by himself.

With the ground still unsteady, and every straight line of the world around them becoming twisted and bent, the two of them managed to crawl beneath some wooden scaffolding, which lay against the side of a short building's wall.

Raito pushed his back as far against the wall as it would go, unconsciously trying to become one with the cement, as the turned to stare, through the gaps of the scaffolds, at the full fledged panic taking place in the street.

From his side, L was copying his stance, staring forward with his eyes even more enlarged than they usually were. For once, his knees were not pressed to his chest, but bent haphazardly in front of him, in a defensive position of disorientation.

They both stared at the balls of light that pelted on the street in front of them…until finally, through the shaking of the earth and the screeching, deafening sounds, they managed to understand what was happening. With their jaws lax and their fingers trembling, they stared, realizing that what they were actually seeing…they were witnessing the birth of…of a…

"It's…" someone said, but Raito couldn't be sure if it was he or L who'd spoken, in such a breathless voice.

Their constricted irises became like shining bulbs, filled with reflected light, as they stared.

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**To Be Continued**

**a/n: ok, to clear some points, I haven't actually read "Another Note", but I know of the existence of this "Beyond Birthday" L-obsessed guy…Seeing as this guy's existence is a new addition to TE, I'll be editing some stuff in the previous chapters. Mainly, I'll probably take out all the stuff about L being in a French orphanage as a kid, and replace it with stuff about L being alone in the streets as a kid. But the main principles will be the same, so…no real need to reread anything.**

**Also…were they OOC? Please tell me! I'm really worried! I know that it's impossible for them not to be OOC at this point, but I'm hoping that, through the last fourteen chapters, I've been building enough justification to make their OOC-ness excusable. That's what it's all about…right? Right?**

**So yeah…I'm still a bit depressed…I'm feeling that this 'afterlife' thing may have been kind of a completely silly AU idea after all…but I'll keep writing this, just because I know many people are reading it, and it would be an insult to them not to continue it.**

**All my reviewers and readers: have a cookie!**

**Thankyou very much, and I hope you haven't forgotten about meeeee!**

**(oh,oh ! What was your favourite scene in this one?! I think mine was…uhh…the true/false scene and the Big Kira Talk scene! Raito's butt tattoo. Gah!!)**


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